


The Lonely Empath

by CartoonJessie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Empath, F/M, Psychology, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CartoonJessie/pseuds/CartoonJessie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Inspired by a prompt of RepeatingLitanies] Mr. Gold is a highly sensitive empath, one who dislikes the influx of emotions whenever people touch him. During his life, he has only had one hair stylist, and when Mrs. Potts decides to retire and say Storybrooke goodbye, Mr. Gold begins his search for a stylist that won't leave him emotionally exhausted or physically assaulted. He is about to give up hope when Mrs. Potts surprisingly suggests the librarian. Perhaps it is his own fear for loneliness that makes him agree to meet her. After all, no more than a handshake is needed to tell if they can make it work or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Panic about Hairdressers

"That woman was even worse than the last," mister Gold muttered angrily. "First of all: the place stank. Don't know what products they used to dye other women's hair, but it was gross. Second, she was nervous and agitated and frightened of everything - I swear I feared she would have cut my own ear off, so I ran out!"  
He crossed his arms as he recalled the experience, feeling sick to his stomach from the memory alone, staring at the wall in front of him as Mrs. Potts washed his hair, the sensation of her fingers on his skin soothing and calm, just like she was.  
"I understand," she said calmly. "But we are running out of options. I am leaving to witness the birth of my grandson in three days, Rumford, and unless you find no one else, you'll have to fly to London next time you want someone to do your hair."  
"I'm seriously considering it," he said stubbornly, still upset, though the agitated feeling in his stomach was slowly ebbing away again.  
It felt good to have someone to talk to, someone who understood, and the thought that Mrs. Potts would soon leave frightened him.  
"You've seen all hair stylists in town already. Given them quite a scare by refusing them to touch you. I do have a few contacts in Boston, but they are unlikely to travel to Storybrooke, and do you really want to go to Boston to get your hair done?"  
"No," he said flatly. He hated cities. Too many people - too loud, too light... He wouldn't go there if he could help it.  
As she turned on the water to start rinsing his hair, she seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, before she added: "There might be someone else... She's not a hair stylist though."  
"What good is she to me if she can't cut my hair," he remarked dryly.  
"Oh, I'm sure she can cut your hair, and do it reasonably well too, but if you're going to be picky about who touches you, then she might be the right one for you."  
Mister Gold relaxed as the warm water touched his skin, closing his eyes for a moment as the gentle touch of Mrs. Potts once more calmed him.  
"Then what does she do for a living?" he asked, his tone softer as he was beginning to calm down again. "Beauty salon? Animal hairdresser? Hippie healer?"  
Mrs. Potts chuckled. "Librarian."  
His eyes flew open in an instant and he looked up at Mrs. Potts - upside down as he was still laying with his head in the washbasin.  
"Excuse me?" he asked - not even sure where to start.  
"Her name is Belle and she helped me out here when she was a student. Came in on Saturdays when it was busy and helped me out by washing people's hair, even by cutting the hair of children - she was really good at it too. Didn't witness any disasters. Never pursued a career in it though. No wonder you never met her either, you only come in after regular hours... She was long gone in the evenings back then."  
"So if I buy a library card she'll do my hair for the same price?" he asked sarcastically.  
"Don't be silly. She was getting the key to the salon anyway. I'm an old friend of her father's and she was thinking of moving out. I suggested to her that she could rent the place, and she's eagerly taken me up on that offer. She will be here in an hour. Stick around. You might like her. If you want, you can ask her yourself."


	2. Confusing the Librarian

Mister Gold admired himself in the mirror as Mrs. Potts brushed the floor in silence behind him, not minding his presence in her salon anymore than he minded hers.   
He had no trouble admitting to himself that he was vain. His hair was the softest in all of Storybrooke - or so Mrs. Potts told him each time he came to visit her - and he was proud of that. He didn't feel particularly happy with the rest of himself - he was tiny - ate too much when he felt stressed - then had periods where he was as skinny as could be, to the point where he could count his own ribs. The past years, he had been unable to get rid of his tummy though. Perhaps it was the combination of stress and his age that were the cause of it. But still he tried his hardest to always look his best.  
He was a landlord - had to collect the rents and check out things that were broken before he sent a plumber or electrician over to his properties throughout Storybrooke.   
He hated hearing the petty complaints - was even more assaulted by the more violent and angry emotions that some tenants displayed when something broke down - and though he kept his emotions well hidden, he was often emotionally exhausted after half a day's work - and glad to be alone for the rest of the day.   
People disliked him. Emphatic as he was, he also knew empathy did not go well with his duties. Selfish people only manipulated his empathy in the hope of keeping their money to themselves, and he needed them to pay the bills. And so he was always tough - always strict - trying to forget their pleads, telling himself they were only trying to take advantage of him - and so he rarely ever allowed anyone any leniency. He had learned the hard way that this was the best way for him to work.   
He had plenty of wealth, and the responsibility to keep all his properties in tip-top shape, but other than that he lived a solitary life. Mrs. Potts was one of the only people in Storybrooke he tolerated, and to know she was to leave him left him anxious.   
He was not particularly personal with her - she did not know that much about his past - but she knew how he was, and that was more than he could say for any of the others. They weren't capable of understanding, they weren't like him. But now she was to leave, and with her all hope would soon be gone that he would ever make a meaningful connection in his lifetime. Perhaps he overrated that sentiment anyway, or so he tried to tell himself.   
As he gazed out the window, he saw people pass by on the other side of the street - the shops now all closed - and people were hurrying home to their families - and then he saw a young woman in front of the window, walking slowly, a book in her hands - open - her step slow so she would not trip as she read - the smile on her face infectious, and so he smiled as well as he looked at her.   
He only realized that she was the girl Mrs. Potts had talked about when she opened the door, closed her book and looked around the place with a smile, her eyes curiously lingering on Mr. Gold's, who forgot what he was doing there before he got up from his seat and took his cane, stepping closer to her with his hand outstretched.  
If she was the girl, then he would be able to tell if she would be any good to him with nothing more than a handshake - it was the first test - the first way of sensing how she was as a person - and though it could leave him a bit exhausted or worse, it would be a quick way to see if there was any use in asking for her help. As she grabbed a hold of his hand, he breathed out, realizing that she was curious, but also surprisingly calm and... dreamy? Was that what she was? Whatever it was, he liked it - truly did.   
"Hello," he said a little awkwardly. "I'm mister Gold - Rumford Gold."  
She was still surprised by the strange encounter, but replied in good humor: "Miss French - Belle French..."  
Her smile was still as infectious as before and he stood there returning it like an idiot, startling a little when he heard Mrs. Potts.   
"Ah, Belle! Glad you're here!"  
"Hello, Mrs. Potts," she replied warmly, letting go of his hand.   
Apparently the girl and Mrs. Potts weren't on a first-name basis. Good. For some reason that made Mr. Gold feel more at ease around them.   
"Had a good day at work?" Mrs. Potts inquired politely.   
"Wonderful," she replied dreamily. "Was reading a good book - I couldn't put it down."  
"I'm not surprised. No customers?"  
"A few," she replied. "But none that disturbed me."  
Mr. Gold frowned, wondering in what way some people had disturbed her in the past then.   
Mrs. Potts continued. "I wanted to show you the ins and outs of this place, as well as discuss the rent with you. Mister Gold, did you have a question for Belle?"  
His eyes widened in alarm, feeling like he was being ambushed - not to mention that it was stupid to ask a librarian to take care of his hair. He began to sweat and his lip trembled for a moment, and he had to remind himself to compose himself, clenching his jaw while he grabbed a firmer hold of his cane.   
"Yes, if you do not mind me asking..." His voice sounded strained and he gulped before he continued: "Mrs. Potts has been my hair stylist for the past few decades, and with her departure, I have yet to find a suitable replacement. She spoke highly of you and... Well, I know you're a librarian... But she suggested that I would ask you to take over?"  
He could see the confusion on her face, the unpleasant curl of her lip as she considered this.  
"And the other salons in Storybrooke?" she wondered. "There are about four more hairdressers in town."  
"Didn't like any of them," he replied coldly, a bit cruelly perhaps.   
She seemed even more confused than before. "I fear Mrs. Potts might have given too much praise. I am not a hairdresser - not officially. I used to cut my doll's hairs and cut some children's hairs when I helped out here on Saturdays - that was years ago... I fear you will be even less content with me than you were with the other hairdressers in town - at least they were trained for it."  
"Look," he replied, feeling a little agitated that she did not understand - though he hardly blamed her for it - no one understood. "I'm by no means an easy man to work with - and things didn't click with the others and I'd rather jump in front of a train than get my hair cut by them..."  
"That's a bit drastic," Mrs. Potts muttered dryly.  
He ignored her and continued: "For what it's worth, I'd rather have my hair cut by you at this point than by them. And it's not always about cutting my hair, sometimes I just need it washed and brushed."  
There was no end to the confusion that Belle felt at these strange proposals, and as she looked at Mrs. Potts as though she tried to determine what was going on precisely, Mrs. Potts sighed and explained: "He's an empath."  
The confusion disappeared in an instant and she looked relieved. "Oh! Why didn't you say so!"  
Mister Gold felt a little betrayed for being outed like that, but at the same time he was surprised that she even knew what it was.   
"I'm one too," she said with a reassuring smile. "Though probably not one as sensitive as you - I've had several hairdressers in my life and though I haven't been very fond of several, I've never asked a librarian to cut my hair out of necessity."  
She smiled again, her attempt at humor so confusing that he looked completely lost, relief washing over him now that it seemed she was willing to take him on.   
"Would you like to drop by on Saturday afternoon?" she suggested. "I see Mrs. Potts cut you today, but if you'd like I could wash your hair. You know - start safe - and if it's too much for you, you can quit at any time you like. I won't make a fuss about it. All up to you."  
Just the liberty of having that choice felt freeing to him and he let out another relieved sigh, one that Belle picked up in an instant, and once more she offered a reassuring smile, her eyes sparkling in what seemed like joy.   
Someone who felt joy at the prospect of seeing him again?  
His stomach turned - though it wasn't necessarily a horrible sensation this time.   
"Sounds good," he replied, his voice a little rougher than usual as he forced himself to stop looking into her eyes. She was goodness incarnate - like an angel - and just looking at her made him weak. Though he wanted to see her again, a voice inside of him was screaming that he needed to get out - the sooner the better.   
"I must go now," he continued. "I will drop by on Saturday then. What time is suitable for you?"  
"About four o clock? Library closes at three."  
"Four o clock. Deal," he replied swiftly, nodding to himself. "Thank you," he forced himself to say out of politeness, before he looked at Mrs. Potts. "I will drop by before you leave, if you do not mind."  
"Not at all," Mrs. Potts said with a warm smile, and as Mister Gold nodded and left the salon, the old stylist smiled and turned to Belle.   
"You don't mind me suggesting to him to ask you to take care of his hair?"  
Belle laughed. "Well, forgive me for my initial panic but I haven't cut anyone's hair in years, Mrs. Potts... I was surprised to say the least."  
"Not mad, I hope?" Mrs. Potts asked carefully.   
"Not at all! Honored, in fact, that you remembered me - and incredibly curious about him. Can't really say I've ever met other empaths - leave alone one that has it even worse than me with people."  
Mrs. Potts was happy to hear those words. She was certain that it was going to work out between those two. Whether mister Gold's hair was going to look any good the first few months was the question, but Mrs. Potts knew that the hair hadn't been the most important part of the appointments for the rich landlord. He was utterly alone in the world, and she hated to imagine how he would cope with life without someone who was able to listen to him - someone that wouldn't judge him.  
She was certain that Belle would be a good replacement in her absence, for she had no plans to come back to Storybrooke for more than a short visit. If things would not click between the two of them, she hated to imagine what it would do to Rumford. He was a good man - but loneliness had never benefited anyone before.


	3. An Unexpected Start

His palms were sweaty as he headed to the salon that Saturday afternoon - wondering what on earth she had to be thinking of him.  
Sure, she had acknowledged that she knew what it meant to be an empath - but did she really know what it was to him? How easily he got overwhelmed in crowds - how it pained him to be touched by strangers unless he initiated the contact - how sensitive he was to sounds and smells if they were too strong?   
Part of him hoped she understood - another part feared that she never would.   
As he stopped in front of the window of the salon, he saw that only a single light was on - the reading light near the waiting bench - a bench he had never had to sit on since he had always come at a time the salon was already closed - and Mrs. Potts had never kept him waiting.   
The magazines were all gone from the table in front of the bench, and all that was left was a big cup and a bookmark while the young woman sat snugly on the sofa, her legs tucked underneath of her while her gaze devoured the words of the massive book in front of her. She did not even notice him as he watched her, wondering if she spent all her free time reading, and as he tapped on the glass, she looked up in mild alarm, her gaze changing into a warm one when she saw it was him, and once more he felt his stomach turn - but not in the usual unpleasant way.   
She seemed genuinely happy, and as he wondered why she could look in that way at him, she opened the door and stepped aside to let him in.   
"Thank you, miss French," he said gratefully, entering the salon and finding it to look rather strange without Mrs. Potts and the hair products on the rack behind the counter. Instead, the rack now held about thirty books, and for some reason he found that amusing and smiled, reading some titles such as The Phantom of the Opera, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women and Jane Eyre - that last book nearly falling apart.   
"Don't thank me yet," she replied in an amused tone. "We have yet to see if I have any actual hairdressing skills. The children whose hair I washed and cut in the past had unsurprisingly low standards. I fear you might be more difficult to please."  
Her words sounded incredibly warm as she spoke them, and he wondered if her accent contributed to that warmth.   
As he let his cane lean against one of the salon chairs , he took off his black vest, revealing the dark purple shirt he wore beneath it, and Belle smiled when she spotted the golden sleeve bands he wore around his upper arms. She had not seen those in decades and headed to the washing basin, taking a towel from a cupboard and turning on a few more lights.   
"I suggest you put this on around your neck, tuck it in your shirt a bit so I don't splash you by accident. I used to help children with it, but I assume you'd rather do this yourself?"  
He was surprised she already was this aware of his issues. The other hairdressers had basically wrapped it around his shoulders without much consent, and it had ticked him off each time. It seemed like Belle was already scoring some good points before she had actually begun.   
As he headed over to her, leaning heavily on his cane with each other step, she beheld him - and especially his leg - with that curious gaze once more, and realizing what she was wondering, he said: "Got the limp from a car crash, long ago. I'd rather not talk about it."  
Her eyes widened as she wondered if she had really been that obvious about it, and she was a little baffled as he took the towel from her hands and put it on around his neck. She composed herself quickly enough though, and suggested: "Do you like music? I could put on some relaxing music if you like. Not too loud - of course."  
He narrowed his eyes, wondering how she already knew he didn't like loud music. Had Mrs. Potts told her, or had she just known this because she knew more about empaths than most people in this town?   
"Depends on the music," he said warily. "What have you got?"   
She headed over to the counter, behind which she apparently held her music collection, and even before she had looked at it, she told him: "I'm a big fan of instrumental music - mostly from movies - as well as songs from musicals and animated movies. And I've got some female singer-songwriters as well, though I suppose that might not be your cup of tea."   
"I'll decide my cup of tea for myself, thank you very much," he replied a little stubbornly. "But go on, put something on. You've made me curious."   
He could see how she looked a bit anxious for a moment, before that anxiety made way for bravery as she looked through her CD's.  
"I'll take a mix tape," she decided.  
"Not made especially for the occasion, I presume?"  
She shook her head as she chuckled. "No, afraid not. I didn't know that was expected." She winked at him and he swore that his stomach jumped. "It's one I like to listen to when I need to unwind a bit. It's all pretty calming music."  
"Why not," he said briefly, wanting to get the small talk over and done with, and as he sat down in front of the washing basin, he waited for her to join him again.   
It only took her a few moments to put on the CD she had mentioned, and he had to admit that the instrumental music sounded lovely - relaxing indeed - but he could not relax fully, not until he knew for sure she was able to do a decent job.  
"Mrs. Potts told me that you did not mind her head massage much, but if you dislike it at any time, do tell me... Do you mind if I comb through your hair before I begin?"  
He shook his head and as she took a comb in her hands and started combing through his hair, he could sense how she was holding her breath, and he muttered: "Relax, miss French."  
Surprised once more that he had sensed that, she chuckled. "I thought I was going to have to urge you to relax instead."  
"I never relax," he continued dryly, and though he had meant it as a bit of a joke, he could sense her concern and the gentle way in which she touched his hair, as though she wanted to comfort him. "Just a joke," he added, just to make sure she understood.  
"Do you have many people in your life that you trust enough to relax with?" she wondered, turning on the water, and realizing how pathetic a long and honest reply to the question would be, he simply said: "No."  
She did not have to know that he truly had no one - not with Mrs. Potts gone.   
The warm water calmed him as she let it rinse his scalp, and he heard how she took a bottle of shampoo - could already smell that it was the usual one that Mrs. Potts had always used before the product touched his skin, and as she turned off the water and brought her hands to his head, he froze.  
It was like her tiny hands were all over him in one instant, and it was overwhelming. Though he could sense her good intentions, he could also sense that she was nervous and anxious, a perfectionist who would be sensitive to his opinion on her care, and he tried to force himself to appear more relaxed, if only because he knew it would relax her as well.  
As he closed his eyes and took another breath, he felt her attitude change to a hopeful one, and he tried to focus his attention on the music instead.   
It was hard to shut out strong emotions, but as she began to relax herself, he was also able to enjoy the circular motions of her fingers as she massaged his scalp, or the pleasing way in which she scratched him on the skin behind the ears. It was almost like he was able to forget he was human, and he was nothing more than a dog that was receiving a good petting. Soon he was able to forget that a beautiful young woman was touching him - and like with Mrs. Potts, it were hands of care and warmth that were spoiling him.  
"You're smiling," he heard her say, and for a moment he was being torn from his reverie, a slight frown on his face betraying how that disturbed him.  
"Yes," he spoke softly, not opening his eyes. "It is nice. Continue."  
To Belle it was one of the strangest experiences of her lifetime. It was like he was melting into pudding in front of her - the stubborn, rigid man dissolving into someone warm and fluffy, and as she massaged every inch of his scalp with the utmost care and attention, she felt rather proud and excited, and she continued for many more minutes - much longer than she had ever done for anyone else. When she suddenly saw a tear run over his cheek, she startled.  
"Are you alright, mister Gold?"  
He opened his eyes, a little surprised by the question, but smiled. "Oh, yes, I'm fine, miss French... Wonderful, even. It's the music. It's very beautiful."  
She had not paid any attention to the music, but it was indeed a very sensitive song, and she was surprised that it had moved him to tears. Had it really been the song though? She could not help but wonder about that as she rinsed his hair, then carefully patted it dry with a towel.  
She moved around the washing basin and chair to the front of him, noticing how he still sat rather relaxed in front of her, and she offered him her hand.   
"Shall I help you to the mirror?" she asked gently, and as he looked at her, he was unable to stop smiling.  
In other situations, he wouldn't even have considered touching another person's hand.   
But now, he took her hand without fear - something that was unusual for him - and welcomed the sensation of her own warmth and love - so much love - more than he had ever felt - and did something he had never done before in his lifetime.  
Perhaps it was the sensitive music, or her beauty or kindness, but he wanted to express his utmost gratitude and respect for her. The means to do so was a bit unconventional, to say the least, and she was completely surprised as he pressed his lips on the back of her hand, closing his eyes for a moment before he stopped the kiss, and he looked up to her as though he had just woken from a long sleep.  
"Thank you, miss French," he said with relief in his tone. "That was magnificent. More than I could have hoped for."  
She felt relief as well, and pride and gratitude and happiness, and she stood there, blushing as he limped past her with his wet hair and the big towel around his shoulders. It wasn't a particularly flattering look for anyone, yet she could not deny that he had just swept her off her feet, and as she continued brushing and blow drying his hair, it felt like she was on cloud nine. Who would have ever thought?


	4. The Landlord's Wooing

Belle had never expected to look forward to the weekly visits of mister Gold as much as she did. There was no denying now that they were quickly becoming her favorite part of the week. He was never late - never missed an appointment - and not only did he always thank her for her magnificent care each time, he brought her gifts too. From the second time on, he had never entered the salon empty-handed. He had gotten her beautiful tomes of poetry and fairy tales, as well as CD's of old and new musicals and some of his own favorite classical music.   
They did not speak that much though - discussed a bit of music and literature - then she would wash and massage his head for nearly half an hour each time - and then as she blow-dried his hair, they would pick up on their earlier conversations. She would hand him his coat, he would thank her once more, often grab her hand while he did that, and then he'd agree to see her the next week, and he'd leave, looking relaxed and happy.  
Belle had to be honest that she wasn't sure what he meant with all those gifts. She had considered the possibility that he was wooing her, but if he was, why wasn't he asking her more personal questions? He had not inquired about her family or her age - he had only ever asked her how her day at the library had been, and she knew that had just been done out of politeness, or so she had told herself.   
On a rainy Saturday, Belle was already gazing out of the window, hoping the dreadful weather would not put her client in a bad mood. The wind was howling and as she saw mister Gold approach through the heavy rains, she feared he would be blown away - or at least she imagined his umbrella not surviving the short walk to her doorstep. It did, however, and Belle hurried to the door to open it for him, and he stepped in, shaking his head a little, trembling from the cold as he closed his umbrella.  
"Are you alright?" Belle asked sweetly. "I was worried about you."  
He smiled warmly, and it was a relief to Belle that it seemed he wasn't bothered about the weather. She much preferred him to be happy in her presence, and it was good to see that he was.   
After he put down the umbrella, he opened his long raincoat, still dripping from the rain, and he took out something from the inside pocket. The gift was this time wrapped in a sober brown wrapping, but Belle knew that in his case the outside never portrayed the treasures she'd find within.   
"You shouldn't have," she said as she took the gift from his hand, smiling.   
No matter how many times she said it, he never listened.  
"I had to," he argued. "I thought that you needed a new one."  
She was intrigued by that. It certainly felt like a book to her - but why would she need a new one?  
As she opened the gift, she immediately noticed that the pages were gilded with gold, the cover blue, and as she saw the image of a young woman on the front and the title, she gasped.  
"Jane Eyre!" she shrieked excitedly. "That's my favorite book!"  
He chuckled. "I figured as much. I noticed it on the rack behind the counter the first time I dropped by and could not help but notice that it was almost falling apart - and I never seemed to find it in exactly the same spot. You seem to read it a lot."  
Just the fact that he had learned all that, not from her words, but from observing her and her rack of books, warmed her heart, and unable to contain her enthusiasm and affection, she pecked him on the cheek, noticing how he startled a little, and she immediately gulped as she realized that he might not have perceived that as a pleasant way to thank him.   
"Oh, I'm sorry," she immediately apologized. "I didn't mean to... I mean... I couldn't contain myself - this is the most thoughtful gift I've ever received."  
The gratitude she felt brought tears to her eyes, and it moved him to see her like that.  
"It is quite alright, miss French," he assured her, not minding her closeness as much as he did that of other people. She radiated with pleasant energy, and her touch had not been able to annoy or hurt him yet. "It pleases me that you like your gift."  
"I love it," she assured him breathlessly, her bright blue eyes drinking in the sight of him, trying to figure out his intentions. Though she identified as an empath as well, she wasn't sure what to pick up from mister Gold. Did he really like her? Or was he just very thoughtful and grateful for the time she spent with him? And did he want to spend more time with her, or was he content with just these Saturday afternoons? She had been wondering those things for several weeks already.   
"You're not gonna charge me for these gifts when you ask me for the rent, are you?" she teased him gently.   
He chuckled shyly, waving his hand. "Don't worry about that."  
"Speaking of which..." she continued with a bit of a frown. "When are you going to ask me for the rent? I've been here for nearly two months now..."  
"Have you?" he replied a little breathlessly, hoping he wasn't as bad a liar as he thought he was.   
"Yes," she continued matter-of-factly. "I thought you would ask for it at some point. Would you rather have me arrange it by bank transfer?"  
He was quiet for a moment, a blush spreading to his cheeks. He had not asked her for rent, because he had wanted to do something nice for her - because he liked her - perhaps more than liked her. He wanted her to a have a good life.   
"Mister Gold?" she asked, trying to get his attention while he seemed to be distracted by his own thoughts.  
"Ah, yes," he continued awkwardly. "You never charge me for doing my hair, so I figured it was only fair not to charge you for the rent."  
She frowned, confused by that statement.   
"I'm not that good at what I do - and it's not like the products I use are that expensive or anything."  
"But you spend your time on me, miss French. Willingly. It's more than I can say for the other people in town," he replied, perhaps a bit pathetically and she could see how he looked insecure admitting that. It seemed like he did not want her to realize just how isolated he was, but she had figured it out already. He was trying to be a friend to her - perhaps more - and she did not know how to respond to it precisely.   
"Are you sure?" she asked softly, feeling guilty that she had nothing more than head massages and haircuts to give him for all his generosity.  
"Yes," he replied stubbornly. "I know your wages as a librarian aren't that high, so, with the money you save now, you can buy more books."   
Once more he was being too thoughtful, and her heart melted a bit, sighing softly as she decided not to argue further with him on this subject.   
"The weather is really dreadful today," he said casually as he took off his wet coat, and she was quick to take it from him and hang it over an unused chair.   
"Yes, I'm not leaving the house in this weather," Belle continued, walking with him to the washing basin, looking at the back of his head and noticing the length of his beautiful hair. "I'd say it's about time to cut your hair though. It's getting a bit long."  
"Yes, I've noticed," he agreed, turning around to look at her with slightly narrowed eyes. "Are you sure you're up for it?"  
She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, quite sure. I've been watching videos on youtube and I've been practicing a bit on some old wigs Mrs. Potts left behind for me. I'm sure it will be fine. Perhaps not as perfect as Mrs. Potts used to cut you, but I'm sure I'll do a decent enough job."  
She was really self-assured, and mister Gold was relieved that she was. He didn't doubt that he was in good hands.  
"I'll leave myself in your capable hands then..."  
And she definitely took good care of him - spoiling him with another head massage, then continuing to cut his hair and dry it. Mister Gold felt safe with her, even despite her much younger age and inexperience when it came to hairdressing - but he honestly would have trusted her with his life. He wondered if she knew just how highly he thought of her - if she truly realized this. She was always so humble, and he sometimes wondered if she truly believed the compliments he gave her.   
As she finished him up, she bit her lip, a little anxious as she looked at him, and he could sense her nerves, looking in the mirror with a smile.   
"Why are you nervous, miss French?" he asked curiously, and she chuckled.  
"Isn't it obvious? I'm not sure if I cut your hair alright..."   
She let her fingertips gently follow the length of his hair, revering in the softness of it.   
"It's perfect, miss French. Thank you."  
She breathed out a sigh of relief, but noticed that he was distracted.  
As he gazed out the window and frowned, Belle followed his gaze and noticed how rainy it still was. There wasn't anyone on the street at this point, and there were puddles of water all over, the wind howling while the rain poured down from the sky.   
"Oh dear," Belle said softly. "Wouldn't want to travel back home in that weather - least of all with a new haircut."  
Vain as he was, it wasn't something that he wanted to do either. He looked good now - and felt great because of it - but that weather wouldn't do anything to improve his mood.  
Belle was quick to suggest: "Why don't you stay a while longer? I'm sure the skies will clear up in an hour or so."  
"They might not," Rumford replied without missing a beat, getting up from his seat. "There was gonna be rain this weekend, they predicted it, and now it's here."   
It wasn't a clear answer to her suggestion to stay over, and Belle decided to try again, the thought that he would leave her in this weather - or that he would leave her at all - too dreadful to bear.   
"Stay," she tried once more. "I wanted to make spaghetti but I always make too much and the freezer I have is too small to put some away, and I'd rather not eat the same thing two days in a row..." She was rambling, and she had a bit of a blush on her face. Afraid he'd think strange things of her, she quickly continued: "Join me for dinner, is what I'm saying. You'd actually be doing me a favor."   
Mister Gold was rather baffled by her suggestion and stared blankly at her for a few moments. He never got asked for dinner anywhere - and the thought of spending more time with Belle wasn't dreadful at all. It was one of those things that made his heart jump, and he looked at her with wide eyes, hardly daring to believe she meant it.  
"Are you sure?" he asked carefully - though he wasn't picking up on anything that betrayed she wasn't serious. It was just that it was so hard for him to believe that he did not trust his empath skills in that moments.   
She chuckled softly. "Of course! Come, I'll show you my apartment upstairs."  
He looked at his coat as it still hung over the chair, then licked his lips as he looked at the door at the back of the salon.   
Mrs. Potts had never invited him upstairs... Not unless something had been broken, at least. And he had never minded that either. That was how it was supposed to go between a landlord and his tenant.  
But the thought of being invited into Belle's apartment - not for business, but for pleasure - made him a little nervous. He cared a lot for her and was curious about her, but was it a good idea to get even closer to her? It wasn't like he had a lot of experience with this, and he was afraid he'd mess things up.  
At the same time, he gathered all his courage, and deciding to be brave, he followed her through the door, up the stairs. He should have realized sooner that getting Belle all those gifts would inspire her to do something nice in return.


	5. Roses, Spaghetti and Games

The moment he entered her living room, it was like he had entered another world.   
Not that her place looked so unusual - or so different from how he remembered it from the times he had been allowed in by Mrs. Potts, usually just to check up on things that were breaking down. But just the fact that he was being invited into someone's life like that left him ill at ease and a bit afraid.   
The furniture was old and wooden - hand-me-downs from his old stylist - but now there were even more books than downstairs against the walls. A laptop lay on the sofa, a small television stood in the corner of the room, and there was a bouquet of roses on the dining room table, causing his heart to stop for a moment.   
Who had gotten her those flowers?   
Anxiety filled his stomach as he feared she had another admirer - another suitor - and it was only in that moment that he realized how desperately he had to love her if the idea of competition was making him this physically ill.   
Belle could see the anxiety on his face as he stared at her table, and as she followed his gaze, she could not figure out what he was seeing that was making him so ill at ease.   
"Are you alright?" she asked carefully, hoping he would tell her what was wrong.  
He tried to straighten his face, hoping she had not noticed anything, but as he looked at her gaze, he knew she had picked up on his insecurity.   
"Yes, quite alright," he replied politely, but he could not help but look at the flowers one more time, and this time she realized what he was looking at.   
"Are you allergic to flowers?" she wondered, figuring it had to be something to do with the bouquet.   
"Oh, no," he replied quickly.   
"Do you dislike roses?" she tried.  
"No, not at all."  
"Then why are you so anxious from looking at these flowers?" Belle wondered, narrowing her eyes, and this time it was he who was alarmed that she had picked up on his emotions so well. He wasn't used to others being as direct as him about what they sensed, but her observation had been correct. A lucky guess perhaps, but she seemed pretty sure that what she picked up was correct, and he continued: "Did you get those roses to celebrate something?"  
Belle narrowed her eyes again, wondering why he asked that specifically. Was he afraid he had missed her birthday or something? Perhaps that had been it, and she felt a bit of relief.   
"Oh, no!" she tried to assure him. "No special occasion at all! Don't you know my father? Maurice French? Runs the flower shop."  
He felt relief flood over him at those words and gazed at her with an incredulous gaze.   
So the flowers had been a gift from her father?   
He could not express how relieved he was that she did not have another suitor - and he would not tell her that.   
She chuckled, now amused by his earlier worry about the flowers.   
"No worries, you did not miss my birthday or anything," she continued gently, heading into the small kitchen. "Not that I expect a gift from you then, I mean... you spoil me already."  
"You deserve it," he replied quickly, following her towards the kitchen, feeling a little too awkward to stay alone in the living room, and he held both hands together, afraid he'd look like a fool if he allowed them to hang besides his body while he had no idea what to do with them.   
Once more she was super-aware of his sentiment, and she continued: "You're not really used to being invited in for dinner, I assume?"  
"Not really," he admitted shyly, not sure what to do, and he asked: "Can I help you with something, perhaps?"  
As Belle opened her fridge, she got out some onions and bell peppers. "We should cut these - do you like them?"  
He nodded, not being a particularly picky eater, least of all when it came to vegetables.  
"Sit down. Let me set you up with the material you need. Do you need an apron? Bell peppers tend to leave a bit of a mess. Wouldn't want you to ruin your lovely clothes."  
He blushed, happy that she thought his clothes were nice. The time he spent each morning picking them out wasn't completely in vain then.   
"Sure," he accepted with a small chuckle, and as she handed him a sky blue apron, he did not hesitate to put it on, while she put a cutting board and knife on the table, as well as an empty bowl.   
While he cut away, Belle started baking the minced meat that was to go with the spaghetti, and as they worked in silence, Rumford had to admit how much he liked this. She was such easy company - so pleasant and friendly - not to mention that she was truly beautiful.  
For one who had believed his entire life that he was best left alone, he was starting to believe that perhaps being with someone wasn't so bad - not if they were as delightful company as Belle.  
As he finished cutting up the vegetables, Belle continued making the sauce for the spaghetti, and she told him where to find the plates to set the table.   
Fifteen minutes later, their dinner was ready, and as Rumford sat down and waited for Belle to join him, he suddenly beheld how she took a set of three candles from one of the cupboards and lit them, setting it between the two of them.   
For some reason, that left him a bit nervous. Dinner by candlelight? There was a first for everything, but he felt sorely unprepared.  
The spaghetti was able to distract him, and he really enjoyed it, complimenting Belle's cooking at least half a dozen times before they were both finished. It was already dark outside by the time they cleaned the table, but it was still raining.   
"Want to watch a movie with me?" Belle asked curiously, noticing the rain at the same time he did.   
He was not in a particular mood to watch a movie - but just the fact that Belle was asking him so sweetly made it hard to say no, and so he smiled. "If I'm not overstaying my welcome..."  
She immediately shook her head. "Not at all! I like your company! It's more fun than sitting here on my own, to be honest. Most of my friends would not be entertained by the idea of having dinner and a movie. They would want to go out and dance or something. I'm not too fond of that."  
"Why not?" Rumford asked curiously.   
Belle shrugged. "Too loud - too many people in rooms that are too small. I prefer doing something quiet in order to recharge. Being in crowds just drains me."  
He smiled despite himself, recognizing so much of himself in that.   
"What about you?" she wondered. "How do you usually spend your Saturday evenings?"  
He wasn't eager to talk about that, but he replied politely: "I do some reading or watch some documentaries. Sometimes both."  
As he cast his eyes down, Belle noticed this immediately.  
"Sounds nice," she said warmly, hoping to cheer him up. "It's not very social, but neither are my evening activities."  
As she got up and headed to the living room, he followed her, standing a little awkwardly in front of the couch, realizing she only had one.   
She opened the cupboard to look at the DVD's she had there, but got distracted by a box of games she had owned for ages, and as she took it from the cupboard, she showed it to him.  
"I was wondering... Would you perhaps prefer to play some games instead? I've had this box of games for years, but have never had anyone to play with me."  
He looked at the box with narrowed eyes, seeing that it had some simple board games like checkers and snakes and ladders, and he asked: "No monopoly?"   
Her eyes lit up and as she pushed the box in his hands, she headed back to the cupboard, continuing to look until she had found her game of monopoly.   
"Do you want to play?" she asked eagerly, and he was hardly able to resist her enthusiasm, grinning because of it.   
"Very much so," he agreed. "I haven't played it in ages, but I used to love it."  
As they sat down at the living room table, they started setting up the game, and Belle curiously wondered: "Who did you play it with?"  
He knew that it was no secret that he had no friends at this time, so the question was logical.   
"My mother," he replied gently. "She died when I was twelve though."  
"I'm so sorry to hear that," she said with compassion in her tone, and he smiled because of it.   
He kept quiet as he looked for a pawn to play with, and as she felt an urgent need to share, she suddenly blurted out: "My mother died when I was sixteen."  
He held his breath as he looked up at her, his eyebrows raised as he noticed her anxiety in sharing this and noticed the way in which she had cast down her eyes. She smiled, but he could sense her sadness and immediately frowned because of it.   
"Would you... would you like to talk about it?" he suggested softly, not sure if he was the best person to talk to about these matters.   
She shrugged and tried to pretend she hadn't said anything. "Not much to say," she said softly. "I miss her. Wish I still had her in my life."  
"I know what that's like," he assured her softly. "Doesn't make the sorrow disappear." Noticing her hand on the table, he reached out for it and held it, the sorrow clear from her touch. "You'll always have a spot of sadness for those you miss in your heart. But I hope that her memory has left a spot of happiness as well..."  
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, but smiled at his words, squeezing his hand in gratitude.   
"It has," she said in a relieved tone. "I have so many good memories of her. Just wish I had even more."  
He held onto her hand, not knowing in what way he could console her. If her mother had died when she was sixteen, then surely she had to have had enough time to process it? How old was she anyway?   
He tried to ask as casually as he could: "How many years ago did she pass away?" He could do the maths himself.  
Belle frowned however, realizing that he did not know her age, and she smiled because of it.   
"I'm twenty-eight now," she told him. "So it's been twelve years."  
He was genuinely surprised by that, and she noticed it.   
"What? Too young? Too old?" she asked playfully.  
Chuckling, he shook his head. "Neither. I had no idea how old to estimate you. You look very young, but your soul is older... Makes it difficult to pinpoint an age."   
"And you?" she asked, taking the pawn of the terrier from the box as she put it on the playing board. "May I ask your age too?"  
"You may," he replied, but he felt anxious at the thought that there were quite some years between them and fiddled with the pawn of his choice in his hands, before he put it down on the board, quickly putting his hands below the table to hide his nervousness. "I'm forty-four."  
She didn't seem very surprised though, and she had a small, mysterious smile on her face.  
"Good," she said. "I needed to know that."  
Confused, Gold frowned and he tilted his head as he wondered: "Why?"  
She grinned as she took the dice, shaking them in her hand. "That means I get to start! Youngest player always begins!"  
He could not help but laugh, and she continued: "Do you always pick the cannon as your pawn?"  
He frowned. "Cannon?"  
As he looked at the playing board and his pawn, his eyes widened. "I always thought it was a spinning wheel!"   
He seemed to be in complete shock, and Belle could not help but laugh because of it.   
"My life has been a lie," he added sheepishly, taking his pawn in his hand once more. "I always saw a spinning wheel in this. But now that you mention that it's a cannon... that makes more sense, actually."  
As they began playing, it soon became obvious that mister Gold was a ruthless player, buying everything he encountered, and he would never doubt which properties were his before he asked Belle for the rent. By the time Belle had one hotel, Gold already had four on the board, and an hour later, Belle admitted her defeat, sighing desperately as she knocked over her pawn in a dramatic gesture while Gold kissed his.  
"Spinning wheel always wins," he added with mischief in his eyes, and Belle chuckled, not really minding her loss at all. She was far happier to see him so relaxed in her presence.  
"You really know how to woo a lady, don't you?" she teased him, looking at him through narrowed eyes, and she noticed the blush that came to his cheeks. He now felt ashamed for gloating like that, not knowing if he had been too cruel or if she was really serious about being wooed. Did she really think he was trying to woo her? Was he trying to? He couldn't even say himself, because despite his attraction to her, he had no idea on how to proceed with that.   
Noticing how he was unable to reply to that and how he tensed up again, Belle leaned forward and took his hand, seeing how he completely froze because of that touch, but she did not let go, trying to figure out what it was she wanted to say to him without scaring him away again.   
"I mean... I had a good time."  
He was still frozen to his seat, but he quickly said: "Yes, me too."  
"I would not mind doing this again some time," she added.  
"Me neither," he replied, noticing how he was beginning to sweat, even feeling as though he could not breathe properly. Had it been this hot in her apartment all along?  
"I mean..." She cast down her eyes and he could sense how nervous she was - though nowhere near as nervous as he was. "Should you actually wish to do some wooing... I wouldn't mind."  
She was blushing, glancing up at him with a hopeful expression, but it felt to him like she had punched him in the gut - for he was unable to breathe.   
It even seemed like all thoughts left him in that moment - like he could only hear a low buzzing in his ear, and without even knowing what he was doing, he had pulled his hand from hers, stood up from his chair, and was gathering his jacket, muttering: "Alright..."  
He could not even hear his own voice though, and as he headed to the door, it was like he heard a part of him scream to slow down, to stop what he was doing, reminding him that it would be incredibly rude to leave like that.   
"Thank you for everything," he said awkwardly, not daring to look at her as he only had eyes for the door. "See you next week!"  
As he rushed out of her apartment, she was too baffled, losing the few seconds that she needed to keep up with him, and as she rushed after him, he had already gone down the stairs and left through the front door, into the pouring rain.   
Belle was left standing in the door opening, feeling dreadful for that sudden end to their wonderful evening. She had moved too fast, she knew that now. But how else would he ever learn that she really liked him?


	6. A Lady's Letter

Honestly, he had never felt so confused in his entire life. He had not known whether to run back to Belle's apartment and apologize, or to leave the country altogether. Part of him was proud he had won her affection, another part of him tried to tell himself he did not want or need any of that. He had considered giving into the shame of what had happened and spend the evening crying in his bedroom, but at the same time he also wanted to give into his lust and just jerk off at the memory of the lady that had so completely stolen every bit of his heart. 

But instead of doing any of those things, he had just gone home, taken off his soaking wet clothes and stepped into the shower, his gaze emotionless as he relived the past day, trying to figure out what he should have done differently. He really did not know if he wanted Belle's attention or not. Did he want her as his hairdresser, or as more? It always came down to the same question: was it worth the risk? Did he really want to lose her? Wasn't it better to just remain friends? 

He was so lonely that he feared the moment he would lose the one link he had left to the human world. He feared the moment he would lose her more than anything. 

He was hardly able to catch any sleep, but when he did fall asleep, he didn't wake until late the next morning, only opening his eyes when he heard the creaky mailbox lid open and close downstairs. For a moment he wanted to continue sleeping, until he realized that it was Sunday and there shouldn't be any mail at all. 

His interest was sparked and as he headed downstairs in his dark blue silk pajamas, leaning heavily on his cane, he saw the letter on the doormat. There was no address on it, just "To Rumford Gold" written in black on the envelope, and he could not help but feel like it was Belle's handwriting - the letters were curly and small, but beautiful, just like her, and it felt as though she had written it with love.

As his heart beat in his throat, he headed back up the stairs, staring at his own name, wondering what it was that Belle had written to him, both anxious and excited to read it, but he waited until he was back in bed and covered himself with the warm sheets before he opened the envelope. 

As his eyes skipped over the page, he could not recall receiving such a long letter in his lifetime, and he nervously bit his lip as he began reading. 

 

> _Dear Rumford,_
> 
>  
> 
> _I wish to apologize for the way in which I  startled you yesterday evening. It all happened so fast, and I had no time to explain myself before you left. I hope you will at least read what I have to say now._
> 
>  
> 
> _First of all, please know that I really enjoy spending time with you. I've been looking forward to your weekly visits these past months, and not just because of the wonderful presents you have bought me. Yesterday was amazing - I loved preparing dinner with you and playing monopoly! I enjoyed all the talking and seeing you relaxed and happy. I really wish I had more days like that in my life, days of meaning that I can spend with someone I care about._
> 
> _Just thinking that I may have ruined our relationship now is a thought that is unbearable to me!_
> 
>  
> 
> _If you wish to pretend that yesterday did not happen for your own ease of mind, then I am willing to play along. I want you to be happy - that's basically it. Seeing you relaxed gives me pleasure too, and if you would rather never talk about yesterday again, then I won't either. I won't bring it up, I promise. I can go back to just washing your hair, we can talk a bit about music, and you don't need to stay over for dinner or games if you don't want to._
> 
>  
> 
> _But if you feel as I do - if you want to get to know me better, like I want to get to know you better, then don't hold back. I know you're scared of being awkward - I noticed that yesterday - but you're not the only one with that fear. If you want to move this relationship into another direction, then I am willing to do the same. We don't need to rush. And if you do decide to try advancing our relationship into a different direction, then I will let you take the lead. As an empath, I can imagine it must be scary if I come on too strong. But I do feel strongly for you, and I'd rather be honest about it. I have an impulsive streak that I am unable to control most of the times, and I apologize if that part of me scares you._
> 
>  
> 
> _However, the fact that I have strong feelings does not mean I demand of you to respond to them. i can convert them into feelings of friendship, or should you dislike that notion too, then I shall just continue to serve you each Saturday afternoon as your hairdresser, nothing more. But if you wish to experience friendship or even love, then please know that I would not mind giving it a try. I really like you. I almost don't dare to hope that you feel the same, but if you do, then rest assured and know that you are not intruding to me. You may call upon my time whenever you wish for it. But if you wish to stick to Saturday afternoons, then we'll do just that._
> 
>  
> 
> _I leave the choice in your hands, just know that I still like you._
> 
>  
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Belle_

 

He read the letter at least four times, his heart aching more and more for his beautiful Belle each time he read it. She was giving herself to him so willingly - being so gracious about the thought that he might dismiss her feelings - and he could not help but feel like a villain for what he had done the evening before. 

He needed to make it up to her, he knew that, but how? 

And did he actually know how he wanted to proceed with her yet? Did he want her as a lover, or as a hairdresser? Or just as a friend, something in-between all that? He could see the allure in each of those roads but feared losing her if he did decide to go for something more than a professional relationship with her. 

Unable to make up his mind just yet, he decided to sleep on it another night. Perhaps time would bring some clarity after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to use this chapter also as a means to wish my faithful reader Oncer4Life69Dearie a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I have not forgotten, in fact I was reminding myself all day to post a new chapter in your honor! Yes, I know it's not one of your prompts but unfortunately I had no time to work on anything new... I really shouldn't, with Nanowrimo coming up and all! I wish to finish The Lonely Empath and The Princess and the Knight before November starts and that will be hard enough as it is... And then I'll be on to writing Heart of the Ship for 30 days in a row... I really hope to get close to the ending this year. XD But anyways, hope you had a great day! Know that every comment, no matter how short it is, always cheers me up immensely and gives me the courage to continue writing! Big kiss!
> 
> Also, if any of you have birthdays coming up, feel free to approach me on Tumblr. I'm CartoonJessie there, and if you send me a message and I read it while I'm not actually half-asleep, you can be sure you get a reply! (And if I am half asleep I usually forget I ever received it. My brain works that way.)


	7. Night of Fire

On Monday evening, Rumford had made up his mind: he would go see his lady Belle first thing in the morning.  
However, it was like life had something else in mind. One of his properties on the edge of town burned down that very night, and he almost feared it was some sort of sign from God. Not that he actually was a religious man, but when it came to Belle he did not know where to look for signs that he was doing the right thing.   
He got up in the middle of the night to go and look at the fire and spent the rest of the night in the company of his tenants, whose heavy emotions drained on him unlike ever before. These people had lost so much, and he could not respond in the same hardhearted way he usually saved for people that annoyed him. The gratitude he was shown in return was unexpected, to say the least, and despite the sorrow, there was such relief he felt - especially from the parents - because they had all made it out alive.   
He offered another one of his properties to the family. It was too small for a family of five, but they could make do until they had found something new, and they gladly accepted the offer.   
The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon was spent on the phone with several insurance companies, and though he longed to see Belle again, he could not leave before he was finished. Some people called him, demanding where he was because they were expecting his monthly rent-visit. They were rude, showed little respect for the situation, and said they were unavailable to see him during working hours the rest of the week. He tried to offer to visit them in the evenings, but only a few begrudgingly agreed.   
He wanted to head to the library before it was too late, but only managed to reach it ten minutes before closing time. He hoped Belle had not locked the door yet, and felt like a mess as he stepped in. He was tired and emotionally exhausted, and the small bell that rang as he entered even startled him.  
The ringing did not go unnoticed, and when Belle came out from the back room and saw him standing at the entrance of her own domain, she froze. It was the last thing she had expected, and her breath hitched as she looked at him. She had never seen him look so miserable and she could sense that he was in over his head - like his world had turned upside down.  
For a moment she feared she had been the sole cause of that, and she felt horrible.  
"Rumford," she said compassionately, walking closer to him, but remaining careful not to step too close - afraid he would dash off again in fear.  
"Belle..." His voice was hoarse, his lip trembling, and while he had spent most of the Monday evening practicing what he wanted to say to her, he could not remember anything after the tumultuous day he'd had.   
"What's wrong?" she asked carefully, taking a step closer, noticing some sort of dirt on his sleeve and his messy hair and as she offered him her hand, she hoped he'd take it.  
He hesitated for a brief moment, but after the hell of that day he could do with a touch as sweet and loving as Belle's, and as he put his hand in hers, he let out a sad sigh, shaking his head as he felt her warmth spread through him, inspiring him with courage.   
"I've had a dreadful day," he admitted. "I wanted to come see you this morning already, but I wasn't able to until now."  
Belle looked at him with such compassion that his heart melted for her, and when she suddenly frowned and sniffed, she wondered: "Do I smell smoke?"  
He gave her a half-smile. "I'm afraid that would be me."  
"What?! Were you in a fire?" It would explain the dirt on his sleeve - it was ash! She only held his hand tighter and the concern she felt for him smothered him, and he quickly shook his head.  
"No, not me. A house at the edge of town burned down. It was my property, so I went there while the fire department was still extinguishing the fire this night. I... I haven't been able to take a shower yet..."  
In hindsight, he now wished he had done that. What would she be thinking of him, entering her library while he smelled so dreadful?   
"You poor thing!" she exclaimed, and though he would have snarled at anyone that called him such, he found it heartwarming when Belle said it. "Would you like a shower? I mean, not here, but if you want you can go to my apartment."  
He shook his head. "I suppose I should go home and have a shower there, and something else to wear. Showering won't do me any good if I don't have clean clothes to wear."  
"Good point... Have you eaten anything yet?" she asked in a voice laced with worry.   
He shook his head, not feeling particularly hungry at that time, but realizing that he needed to eat something at some point. He had worked on adrenaline alone that day.   
Belle wanted to propose that she could order take-out, but she feared she would be jumping to conclusions then. He had come to her now, but did it mean that he wanted to pursue friendship then? She had promised him in her letter that she would not mention what had happened last Saturday, but at the moment she felt a little too confused by his presence to continue.   
"Did you... did you get my letter?" she asked carefully, not letting go of his hand despite the fact she felt rather nervous.   
"Of course I did," he said softly, looking at her with nothing but affection. "And I want to apologize for keeping you waiting... I had a lot of thinking to do."  
She smiled gently, raising her eyebrows as she looked at him with a hopeful gaze.   
His voice got stuck in his throat as he opened his mouth, wanting to tell her what he had decided, but he was being a coward and now lacked the courage to do so.   
Belle, however, could sense his affection and she hoped she was reading him correctly as she said: "Then will you join me for dinner? I can order some Chinese. We can have it at your place, or my place, or even here if you would like that."  
He felt relief at the thought she still wanted him in her life, and he nodded in relief. "I'd like that a lot..." He hesitated though, before he added: "But I should probably go home and take a shower first. I don't want to spend the rest of the evening with you while I smell like this."  
"It's fine," she assured him, really not minding it that much. "Or if you want, you can go home, and I can go pick up the food while you shower? We could eat at your place - or mine - whatever you would like."  
"Mine then," he suggested, finding it only fair that he would invite her into his home this time. "And if you could bring along the Chinese food, that would be great..."  
"Anything you want in particular?" she asked, unable to hide her happy smile. The idea of spending the evening with him thrilled her. It was a pleasant surprise to an otherwise dull day.   
"I'm not a picky eater," he assured her, smiling at her. The day had been so dreadful, but just seeing her, planning for a nice evening was making it all worthwhile. Not sure how to proceed, he said: "I should go then... I'll see you in about an hour, I suppose?"  
She nodded happily. "Yes! I'll be as fast as I can! Bye!"  
As he left the library, he had a smile on his face. Dreadful as he had found the day so far, he was now excited about what was to follow.


	8. Stories of the Past

He stood in front of the mirror, wearing black trousers and a dark blue shirt, trying to pick the right tie to go with it. He had enough ties, but it seemed like none of them were good enough to wear in the presence of his beautiful Belle. He wished he had a lighter blue tie in his collection - it would go so beautifully with her eyes.  
Then again - perhaps he should go for a tie that went with his own eyes instead... But as he took a black tie in his hand, he figured that it looked much too formal, as though he was in mourning, and that was not the case. His heart hadn't felt so light in years.   
As the door bell rang, he cursed briefly and threw the tie on his bed. He had taken too long in the shower - making sure his hair was perfect and that he could no longer smell the fire. At least his hair was dry now and he looked presentable enough.  
He took his cane and limped downstairs as fast as he could, a little out of breath as he opened the door and saw her standing there, a bag of Chinese food in her hands.   
She took in the sight of him, noticing he was without a vest or tie, and she found his tight shirt left little to the imagination. She liked what she saw and blushed, hoping he did not pick up on that.   
But he did not notice for he was too confused as he looked behind her into the street and asked: "Where did you park your car?"  
Belle raised her eyebrows, surprised that he assumed she had a car. "I walked. I have no car."  
He felt dreadful now. "You walked all the way here?" he asked incredulously, opening the door further so she could enter. He looked at the clock. An hour and a half had passed since he had left her in the library. "But that must have taken you over an hour!"  
She chuckled. "I don't mind walking so much."  
"But you're wearing heels!" he protested.  
"I'm used to it," she assured him, handing him the Chinese food as she took off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the door.  
He still felt like he had asked too much of her, and as he thought about it, he continued: "But when you came on Sunday to bring me the letter... Did you walk an hour to my house and then back again?"  
She was amused by his surprise and indignation. "Of course I did," she assured him gently. "Is that a problem to you?"  
He just stared at her, not understanding how she could go about it so lightly. It was so much time she had spent, just on him - on getting to him - on getting him things! She had spent two hours to get him a letter, and now she had walked another hour to bring him the Chinese food.   
"We might need to reheat the food though. It's getting really cold outside," she added. "I'm glad it isn't freezing yet."  
She was a brave, young woman, he knew that much, and words could not express the gratitude he felt for what she had done for him so far.  
"Don't worry, that's not a problem at all," he continued in a gentler tone. "I can assure you that the microwave is fully operational!" He smiled sheepishly, inwardly cursing himself for his awkwardness. He cleared his throat before he continued: "Shall I give you a short tour around the house?"  
She was quick to agree and he showed her most of the lower floor: the kitchen, the toilet, the living room, the parlor and the library. She didn't seem eager to leave the last room, impressed by the amount of books he owned, and when he joked: "Perhaps this is where you would like to have dinner?" he had not expected her to take it so seriously and say "yes!" so eagerly.   
Only when she noticed his surprise, did she realize that he hadn't been serious about it, and she felt like an idiot. "Oh, I'm sorry," she continued. "I really thought you were serious. I just have a thing with libraries... I thought it was a romantic gesture of some sorts..."  
Her face was red from all the blushing, and his heart beat nervously in his throat as he said: "It can still be... We can eat here, it's no problem... I just need to get another chair in here."  
Now Belle felt dreadful again, finding it unfair to ask him to get another one of his chairs in there. She had noticed that most of his furniture was antique, and not particularly light to carry, least of all for a man with a limp.   
"Then at least let me get the chair..." she suggested. "Maybe you can heat up the food in the meanwhile?"  
"Alright," he smiled, still a little nervous from the implication that she thought it a romantic gesture to eat in the library. Was he being romantic? He felt anxious just thinking about it.   
As she took one of the chairs from the kitchen and brought it into the library, he opened up the bag of Chinese food, his stomach growling as he smelled it. He was getting pretty hungry and quickly put the boxes in the microwave, surprised when Belle suddenly stood besides him, asking him to hand her the plates and cutlery and glasses for their dinner.  
He obliged, and as she left the kitchen again, he could not help but stare at her in complete awe. His beautiful little hairdresser. Heck, he knew she was so much more than that.  
Belle returned quickly enough, asking for candles, and he was amused by the question.  
"No worries," she assured him. "I won't light them when none of us are in the library. Wouldn't want to be the cause of another fire. I'd say one fire a day is enough."  
"You can say that again," he said with a chuckle.   
Ten minutes later they were having their Chinese in the library, a few small candles illuminating their dinner, and as he was staring at Belle, admiring her beauty, he did not notice how she was looking at him as well.  
"I like what you're wearing," she admitted warmly. "I mean - that you're not wearing the tie and vest for a change. That's so formal."  
He chuckled. "Couldn't find a tie for the occasion."  
"I really don't mind," she replied. "You're handsome - a different sort of handsome this way."  
He was blushing as he tried to repay the compliment: "And you're beautiful. So much so that it would make a man like me feel even more inadequate."  
Belle frowned, finding the lack of confidence in his statement a little disturbing. "But you're beautiful too," she insisted. "Why would you be inadequate to me?"  
He shrugged, poking his food while he thought about it. "I'm older, uglier and crippled... Not to mention that I can be a cruel bastard at times."  
"You've never been a cruel bastard to me," Belle replied. "I've never seen you that way."  
"Ask my tenants," he replied honestly. "I do not give much leniency."  
Belle shrugged. "That's your job, to make sure people pay their rent on time."  
"Well, I don't have to be so strict about it all the damn time," he muttered. "It's not like I really need all that money anyway."  
Belle was frowning as she continued eating, thinking over those words, and after another minute, she noted: "But were you cruel this night too then? To the tenants that lost their house?"  
He hardly had to think about that and shook his head. "No. I offered them another place to stay in until they got everything sorted."  
She could not help but smile, figuring that he was being too hard on himself most of the time. It was something they needed to work on.  
"Why weren't you a cruel bastard to them then?" she asked, intrigued.  
He looked up at her, noticing the twinkle in her eyes and figuring it was some sort of trick question. Looking back down at his plate, he thought about it for a moment. When he spoke up, his voice was soft, and he admitted: "These people had lost everything... They had no idea how the fire started but it might have been some device in the kitchen - something they had forgotten to turn off - and by the time the fire was burning they had no time to check it out, they got out as quickly as they could... But anyway, when I arrived... they apologized, and they cried for the loss of property, but at the same time they were relieved they had all made it out... that they had each other..."  
Belle thought he spoke so gently about this that she could not help but remain quiet, giving him the chance to finish his train of thought.   
"They were so very brave... To lose so much and continue with their chins up - with hope... I tried to imagine myself in their place and... and I don't know what I'd do if it would have been me losing my home. I wouldn't have anyone to look out for - no one would comfort me - and I could easily move to one of my other properties, but this is all I have in a way...These antiques and things I've gathered my entire life... And I... I felt incredibly lonely as I watched them... Because at least they had each other. And I would have had nothing."  
Belle wanted to take his hand, to convince him that he had her now, but she kept quiet, afraid she'd scare him off if she said such a thing.   
As he looked up from his plate again, he seemed uncertain of himself.   
"But I thought of you," he admitted. "And your letter and... I've been doing a lot of thinking and... I'm tired of being so lonely. With my wealth, I should have a happy life, but I feel miserable most of the time, because I have no one to share it with, and... well... I was hoping you would be willing to... to share some of your time with me..."  
He was very prudent in the way he put it, but Belle could feel his affection and she held out his hand to him, and he was quick to grab it, smiling at her, relieved that she seemed to understand what he was saying.   
"It's what I want too," she said softly. "I would love to spend more time with you, but I also wish to learn how to approach you without scaring you off or overwhelming you. It's not like I ever had a relationship with an empath before, least of all with a highly sensitive one such as yourself."  
He nodded, continuing: "I'm sorry for running off like that last Saturday... It was immature, but... my brain sort of froze..."  
"You don't need to apologize for being overwhelmed," she tried to assure him, stroking his hand gently. "I just need to get to know you better so that we can avoid it."   
"It won't happen again," he promised her. "Next time, I'll try to communicate about it. You just caught me by surprise."  
As they let go of each other's hands, they continued their dinner, though Belle did not stop talking while she was trying to eat.   
"I still think you shouldn't feel so insecure of yourself... I mean... Alright, you might be an empath and have little experience in relationships, but you're such a great man at the same time. You're considerate and kind and intelligent - not to mention that being wealthy isn't a downside in any way, and you seem to have your life in check. Your place looks great, you don't seem to be addicted to anything, you respect me... It's so much more than I can say about previous boyfriends."  
He shifted a little uneasily in his seat. He had not expected Belle to have been as inexperienced as he was, but just thinking that there were several men out there that had been 'the man' at some point in her life made him a little jealous.   
"Did you have many?"   
Belle reminded herself to thread carefully. The male ego was often a fragile thing, and she knew poor Rumford's ego was bruised and battered as it was. She couldn't even blame him for it.   
"Two," she replied carefully. "When I was in college. But for all the wrong reasons. I'm not particularly proud of those relationships."  
He was intrigued by that and asked: "May I ask you to tell me more about the subject? I'd like to know what went wrong - if only so that I can avoid it myself."  
Belle chuckled, amused by the way he put that. "I doubt you would ever repeat their mistakes... They were so very different from you to begin with. First off was Gaston... He was my age, also came with me from Storybrooke when I went to college, and I had known him since kindergarten. I don't really think we could be considered friends, but as children we played with each other, he came to my birthday parties and I went to his... We lost contact as teens, until we went to the same college. He was studying something completely else, but when he spotted me on campus, he was always happy to see me, glad to have someone else from Storybrooke there with him. He was attracted to me, and I was curious." She was blushing slightly as she continued: "He wasn't hard on the eyes, quite popular with the ladies, but he basically only wanted me at that moment, not them. He had his eyes set on me and would not be distracted in his hunt. I was his type or something, but he wasn't mine at all. But his affection was real, and I grew so sexually curious that I mistook my own curiosity for affection. We were together from January until May that year."  
She was frowning, not particularly happy to relive the memories, but she continued none the less.   
"Dad was happy I had a boyfriend who was also from Storybrooke, and Gaston and his family were well-respected by him. But he was a dreadful student, not bookish at all and was into all sorts of sports. He liked going out for beers and doing all sorts of stupid things. The typical frat boy, basically. He was a cheerful person though, most of the times, liked to brag with me, but I just grew bored of him... Quite quickly, actually. I took too long in breaking up with him, not knowing how to go about it, even telling myself that I might warm up to him even more if I gave it time, but I didn't. It was a relationship I never should have started."  
"And the next boyfriend?" Rumford wondered, very curious about what kind of man that had been.  
"It was during my last year in college," she continued. "I was involved with him for only a very short time. His name was Keith, he hunted after me, and I sort of fell for it again. Got pulled into a relationship with a man I hardly knew, but he flattered me, wasn't ugly or anything, and we had a very brief relationship. Didn't last longer than a month. He had a bit of a drinking problem, kept on talking about this girl that he had pined after for years, but who had ended up with someone else, and was just generally lousy in bed. Then when he called me 'Marian' during one of his orgasms... well... I got rid of him as fast as I could."  
Rumford could hardly believe the disrespect of that man - and he could literally feel the shame from Belle as she told him this. He thought it was a miracle that she had so willingly confessed all that already.   
"And you?" Belle now asked in return, hoping that her own honesty would elicit some of his. "Have you ever had a relationship?"  
He shifted uneasily in his seat, but now he felt like he owed her some honesty as well, and he replied: "Sort of..."  
"Sort of?" she repeated, intrigued by that. "What happened?"  
"Her name was Milah," he started. "And it was about fifteen years ago... She was one of my tenants - had just moved in, and she flirted with me. I was so unused to that, so overwhelmed, that I forgot to focus on the signals."  
"The signals?" Belle asked in a confused tone.  
"She was a liar. Was trying to deceive me. She wasn't truly interested in me, she just pretended to be. She tried to seduce me on several occasions, but I had pretty low self esteem and so it didn't work the way she wanted it to. I didn't really want sex with her, but I was flattered by her attention. I gave her plenty of attention in return, but differently. Bought her jewels that she was into - she was always talking about that sort of thing. She was a very material woman - not as heavy on emotions, I suppose... Not towards me, at least. Maybe that is why I could tolerate her presence somewhat... I hardly realized how much money I was spending on her, but I thought that perhaps she would have been a good person to have a relationship with. She said she liked my style, my house, the way I lived... I thought she wanted a life with me, but did not realize that she was just trying to get my money. She was in a relationship with another man, actually."  
Belle raised her eyebrows as he said that.  
"How did you find out?"  
"The Widow Lukas told me. She had overheard the two of them at her diner... She came by the next morning to tell me what she had heard."  
"Wait - what?" Belle was completely baffled. "What had they said then?"  
He felt awkward telling her all of this. If this did not convince her he was a tool, then nothing would.  
"Milah had told her boyfriend that I wasn't making any moves on her yet, but that she was going to drop some hints about marriage and waiting with sex until marriage, so that she could marry me, divorce me, and get half of my properties that way."  
Belle could hardly believe it, and her mouth dropped. "That bitch!" she said passionately. "How can people like that even exist?!"  
"Well it's one of many reasons why I prefer to spend my time in solitude," he admitted, looking down at his plate.  
Belle's heart was aching for him, and he picked up on it, looking up at her with puppy eyes, feeling rather sad from recounting all of that.   
"I'm really sorry you had to go through that," she said compassionately. "I guess we both don't have much of a reason to believe in love... I had some crappy experiences with it in the past, and it appears you're even worse off... I do understand why you ran away on Saturday though, if that was haunting your mind..."  
"It wasn't," he said immediately. "I wasn't thinking of Milah at all. But perhaps what she has done has scarred me deeper than I even realize myself. I just had trouble accepting the fact that you - that anyone could want me."  
Belle couldn't listen to him say that and got up from her seat, walking over to him and kneeling down in front of him, taking both of his hands in hers.  
"But I want you," she said softly, looking up at him. "And I'm sorry if I scare you by chasing you, but I'm done with being chased. I love spending time with you - talking with you - listening to music or playing games or just sitting down to eat something. I have never felt so at ease with anyone. You're the first person ever I feel like this about!"  
She looked at him with such eagerness and love and tenderness at the same time that his heart melted completely.   
He took her hands in his, lifted them and pressed one sweet kiss on top of each, closing his eyes while he did so.   
"Belle," he whispered, his voice emotional. "I'd be a fool not to want you... You are the most caring, beautiful person I've ever met. And though I fear that I might bore you too at some point, I hope that we can at least be friends!"  
"Being friends is not an issue!" she assured him, smiling. "But can we be more? Not today necessarily - but in time? Are you up for that?"  
He nodded shyly. "I am... But... if I'm not what you hope I am... please let me down gently."  
She pulled his hands towards her this time, kissing the back of them like he had kissed hers. "I promise. But I'm hoping it won't ever come to that."  
He was trembling, the moment too unreal to keep his emotions in check. When a tear fell down his cheek however, he was even more surprised by what Belle did. She pulled him up from his chair, and as he stood in front of her, he was surprised when she hugged him, her arms sneaking underneath his, wrapping around his back, her entire torso leaning into his, her head resting underneath his chin as she held him tightly, and for a moment he stood there, frozen to the spot.  
He had always hated strangers touching him, and could not recall the last time in his life that anyone had given him a hug. But as painful as a stranger's touch was to him, that was as healing as her touch was. Soon he found himself leaning back into the hug, wrapping his own arms around her too. Love and warmth spread through him, as though she was the source of all of it, and his tears stopped falling as he realized how much he liked this. He could feel her hand gently rubbing his back, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.   
When she pulled away after a minute, he had a relaxed smile on his face, as though she had hugged all insecurities out of him, and she said: "So we can agree then? That we will pursue this? This potential of a life together?"  
He nodded happily. "Yes, agreed," he said, his voice light once more.   
"Perfect," Belle said, leaning up and giving him a kiss on his cheek.  
He blushed, but he knew fully well that it wasn't because he disliked the sensation of her lips on his skin. He could get used to it.


	9. Planning a Holiday

Belle and Rumford enjoyed every hour they spent together. Their meals together soon became a daily thing. Sometimes they'd eat in the library, other times in Belle's apartment above the hair salon, and other times at Rumford's pink estate. He secretly wanted to take her on a romantic picnic, but the weather was getting too cold, and by November it was freezing on a daily basis.   
Belle enjoyed every moment with Rumford, finding that he couldn't be any less like the two lovers of her past. While they had been intent on bedding her as soon as they could, mister Gold took it slow - sometimes to such an extent that Belle wondered if he was ever going to kiss her properly. He did kiss her though, on the cheek, forehead, hand... But never on her lips. She wasn't even sure why he didn't just go for it. Was it another empath thing that was holding him back?  
"Are you sure you can finish that?"   
Rumford watched Belle as she was tackling a huge steak, the fries and vegetables he had made with it already eaten, but she seemed determined to finish the massive chunk of meat he had given her as well  
"Oh hell yeah!" she said eagerly. "It's good steak, and I haven't eaten anything for lunch."  
He frowned. "Skipping lunch? Why?"  
"Was reading a book," she replied sheepishly. "Couldn't put it down."  
He chuckled, figuring that that was something she was likely to do more often.   
"It was very cold today, wasn't it?" he said casually, drinking a bit of water as he waited for Belle to finish too. She always had the tendency to eat a little slower than he did.  
She nodded. "There was even some snow outside this morning," she said. "I saw it as I left the apartment, but half an hour later it had already melted."  
"They're saying we'll have our first real snow blanket this weekend - and it won't disappear until the middle of next week... Or at least that is what they say."   
Belle shrugged. "Part of me likes snow. But another part of me just wishes for a bit of warmth. I don't like being cold. But there's nothing as cozy as sitting inside, candle burning, reading a good book, while watching the snow fall outside."  
"So I take it you're not a fan of skiing or anything?" he joked.  
She shook her head. "Nope. Never really learned how to do that anyway. We didn't go on holidays, really... The only time I can remember leaving the house for a few nights was once when we spent a weekend in Boston and another time when we spent a weekend in Maine. I think I was like twelve and fourteen then."  
He kept quiet for a few moments. Though they did not discuss it much, it always seemed to him that she had not had a particularly rich childhood. Her father had struggled to keep his flower shop profitable, and she wasn't used to much luxury. She had no driver's licence or car, and now he learned she had never had an actual holiday.   
"And you?" she asked him, noticing his silence. "Did you travel a lot? Did you ever learn to ski?"  
He shook his head and smiled. "No. Not much of a traveler. Doesn't go well with being a highly sensitive empath, I suppose. But I do take regular holidays."  
"Do you?" Belle asked curiously. "Where do you go to then?"  
"I have a cabin in the woods," he replied eagerly. "On the border of Storybrooke. It's isolated, but comfortable. You should come with me one time. I go there a few times a year, at least once every season, just for a weekend. It's a good place to unwind."   
Belle was intrigued. "A holiday in Storybrooke?" she asked, completely amused. "That actually sounds far better than skiing, to be honest."  
He chuckled. "I can't ski anyway with my leg."  
She laughed and put down her fork and knife, having just finished the last of the steak.   
"Well when do you wanna have this holiday then? I'd happily join you! I haven't had a proper holiday in over half my life! And I can still take days off at the library."  
Perhaps he was being too impulsive, or perhaps that was just one of Belle's characteristics that she was passing onto him, but he could not stop himself from suggesting: "This weekend then? We could watch the first snowfall. I can have mister Dove go there tomorrow and prepare the cabin for us."  
Belle had met mister Dove once now. Tall man, very quiet. It had seemed very logical to her that this was the man Gold has picked as his assistant.   
"I can't wait!" Belle said with an eager grin. "When I come home tonight, I'm already going to pack my bags!"  
"But it's three more days?" Gold said with a raised eyebrow.   
"Oh but packing my bags will just add to the anticipation fever! Can't you sense I'm excited?"  
He chuckled. "And if I wouldn't be able to sense it, I'd be able to see it. You're practically hopping in your seat, Belle."  
Belle tried to sit still, but her energy was difficult to keep in check when she was so thrilled.   
"If you want," he continued. "We could leave even sooner? If you can get your days off at the library on such short notice? We could go on Thursday or even Wednesday if you want to?"  
Belle started hopping in her seat again, thinking about that with a big smile on her face. "I'll need to check it with town hall, but I think it shouldn't be too much of a problem. I've never really asked for days off before. And Archie and Leroy can probably fill in for me. They've been volunteering for ages."   
"Fingers crossed then," Rumford said mysteriously, standing up from his seat and gathering his plate. "Now then. Movie tonight, or a game?"  
"Movie!" Belle said quickly, taking her plate too and following him to the kitchen. "I've brought this wonderful period drama with me. I think you'll like it too!"  
"I have yet to dislike anything you've brought along so far," he said wisely. "My lady has exceptional taste."  
Belle chuckled as she put the plate down in the sink. "I must agree. It's why I can't resist someone as amazing as you." She gave him a playful pat on his bum as she passed him by and headed to the door. As he raised his eyebrows and looked at her, she winked. "See you in a minute!"  
Rumford chuckled and shook his head. Life had gotten so much better since he had met Belle. This upcoming holiday was going to be amazing, but as she left the room, he wondered if he was ready for it. After all, the cabin wasn't as big as his estate, and they'd be with each other from morning until evening - and she'd even be spending the night with him. A small frown appeared on his face as he thought about it. It would be a good test of their relationship for sure. If they would continue to get along as splendidly on holiday as they always did, then it would be nothing short of a miracle. He only hoped he would not disappoint her.


	10. The Emotional Breakdown

Belle only managed to get the Friday and the weekend off for their holiday, and Rumford wasn't sure if he was happy with that or not. Part of him knew it might be better if their holiday was just for a short weekend, another part of him feared that he would like it so much that he would not want to bring her back to society on Monday morning.   
He picked her up on Friday morning, wondering what was in her suitcase as he carried it to his car. It wasn't particularly light, and he would not be surprised if he learned she had packed half a dozen books. She was wearing her dark red winter coat, with a pink woolen scarf and matching gloves to go with it, as well as a pink woolen hat. She looked as adorable as always, and he smiled as they drove away from the town center, further into the woods.   
Belle was eagerly looking out the window, curious about where they were going, and as they went off the main road and onto a small forest road, Belle grinned. "Exciting!" she remarked. "Isn't your car too big for this road?"  
He chuckled. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."  
Belle pressed her nose against the window as she thought she saw a lake behind the trees, biting her lip as she wondered where they were precisely. They reached the cabin only two minutes later, and Belle gasped as she saw it was on top of a little hill, with the lake not too far behind it.   
"Oh this is beautiful!" she cried out, opening the door before Rumford had turned off the car completely.   
As she left the warmth of the car, she was able to appreciate the beauty of the nature around her even more, but a few gusts of wind made her change her mind about the outdoors.  
"It's really cold outside though," she remarked. "A good thing I packed some warmer sweaters! I should have worn one underneath my jacket."  
Rumford just chuckled as he took her suitcase out of the car, as well as a small bag in which he had some toiletries. He had already let Dove take some of his clothes to the cabin, and was glad to see that there was a big supply of wood underneath the shed. They were going to need it, if it was going to continue to freeze like this.   
While he made his way to the cabin, Belle quickly came to walk besides him, looking up at the building that was to be her home for the weekend - and she had to be honest in that she had not expected the place to be so big. It actually had two floors - and the combination of wood and stone that had been used to build it made it look like the coziest place in all of Storybrooke.   
"It looks beautiful!" she remarked, and Rumford smiled.   
"Wait until you see the inside," he said mysteriously, and as he opened the door for her and let her in, she gasped.   
"Oh my!" She could not believe her eyes.   
The past days, she had wondered what Rumford usually did on his holiday, but there was no more reason to wonder that. As they entered the large living room, Belle could see the wooden dining room table, massive bookcases against the wall, as well as a comfortable couch in front of a fireplace, a pool table behind that, and even a jukebox in another corner of the room. And even while all those things took up a lot of space, there was still plenty of empty space left in the room.   
"Come, let me show you the kitchen," Gold said as he took her hand and guided her with him.  
The kitchen itself was much smaller, and there was another backdoor that led out to a porch that had an amazing view over the lake. Belle could see a barbecue on the porch, as well as an outdoor dining table and a big wooden swing.   
"And this is where the bathroom and sauna is..." As he opened the door next to the kitchen, Belle looked into the bathroom with an incredulous expression on her face. It was the fanciest bathroom she had ever seen - the walls made out of big rocks and wood, but the dark gray bath looked fancy as hell, and the wall of the sauna looked rather big, she could only imagine how big the actual sauna was.  
This was not what she had imagined the cabin to be like at all. She was completely blown away.   
He noticed her surprise and waited for a moment, giving her some time to adjust, but what he had not expected was to feel her become insecure, and he feared he had done something wrong.   
"Belle?" he asked softly. "What's wrong?"  
She shook her head, a few tears appearing in her eyes as her thoughts were unsettling her.   
"A jukebox, a pool table, a sauna... This place is gorgeous, Rumford... But so expensive... And I can't help but think about how it took me a year to save up for my laptop..."  
He gulped, unsure how he could respond to that. It was clear to him that she felt bad about this, but he did not know in what way he could help it. She was sad though, and because he did not know the words to make her feel better, he opened his arms and invited her in. It didn't take her long to hug him, and he let his head rest against hers, the wool of her hat tickling him. He would prefer for her to take off her jacket and make herself at home, but the way this was going, it seemed more likely that he was going to bring her back. Or at least so he thought, her sadness inspiring him with gloomy thoughts.   
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to make you sad."  
"Oh, it's not you!" Belle protested, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "I suppose it's society's fault. It's just not fair that some people have so much and others so little. I usually don't try to compare myself with rich people, because whenever I do I end up really depressed." She tried to dry her tears and continued: "It's just that I have really struggled to get where I am today - I'm still paying off student loans and I left college seven years ago... And when I see this luxury, and I think about how it's not being used for the majority of the year, I get really frustrated that we live in a world where some people have so much and others struggle to get by. And I know I should not complain about my own life because I can afford food and clothes and a place of my own, but I can afford so little else. It just frustrates me."   
"I understand," he said as he gently touched her cheek, wiping one of her tears away. "You are such a beautiful person, Belle... And you are so dedicated to the library... It really isn't fair that you should struggle to get by. This country is really fucked up in that way. I could easily pay more taxes but they don't ask me to, and then they rob people like you of the money they so desperately need. It's criminal in a way."   
He could sense how her words were relieving her in some way. She became calmer once more, nodding in agreement with his words.   
"Belle, if you need money, all you need to do is ask," he offered gently. "I don't want you to suffer in a financial way."   
She was moved by those words, but shook her head, a little agitated because of the proposal.  
"Rumford, I don't want to be like Milah. I don't want to live on your expenses or rob you of the money you worked for. I have my pride and I wish I could just earn enough money to pay off my own debts and to live a good life."  
He understood what that was like, to have the wish to be independent of others.   
"The hardest words to say might be the words 'help me'. I know, because when I asked you to spend time with me, I had never before experienced anything so difficult to say. It was my way of asking you for help... I needed you to make my life worthwhile, to make it better, and you have!"  
Belle smiled, glad to hear it.   
"But now, Belle," he continued gently. "Dare to ask me for help as well. If something is making you unhappy, and I can help with it, then I will."  
"You've already been helping me financially," she said, sniffing as she wiped even more tears away. "You haven't asked me for the rent since we met. I've been able to save up on a lot of money, but I still feel like I should pay you... It just doesn't feel right, keeping this money to myself while I live there."  
He frowned. She certainly had her pride when it came to money. She could not be more different from Milah in that regard.   
With a crease in his brow, he continued: "Alright then. Pay me the money if that will make you feel better. But come and live with me. I own my own houses, which means that you won't have to pay rent. That way you can still save up."   
Belle sighed, shaking her head. "Rumford... But living together? I know we're good friends and everything, and I care a great deal about you, but... We haven't even kissed!"   
She seemed frustrated about that as well, and now he felt anxious too.   
"We will, though," he said softly, almost as though it was a promise. "When the time is right."   
She frowned. "Why isn't it right now?" she muttered, a little frustrated.   
"Because you're crying!" he responded, once more letting his thumbs run over her cheeks in order to wipe the tears away. "Sweet Belle, I am so sorry you are feeling so bad. If you want to go home, then..."  
"What? No!" she interrupted him fiercely. "I'm just... I'm having a hard time." She got out of his arms, taking off her jacket and hat, heading back towards the living room, and he followed her, hoping she'd feel better soon. He was only trying to help her, but perhaps he just needed to give her some space instead.   
"If you want, you can go upstairs and empty your suitcase? You'll find an empty drawer in the bedroom. There's also a small bathroom next to the bedroom. I promise you won't find any jukeboxes, pool tables or saunas up there."  
Belle chuckled, his attempt to soothe her working.  
"Alright..." she agreed. "That sounds good. I could do with a warmer sweater too. I will try not to talk about all of this again when I come back. I'm really ruining the mood, am I not?"   
"Don't be so hard on yourself," he said firmly. "You can't be happy all the time, Belle. I have never before seen you so frustrated and sad, but it is your right to express how you feel too."  
"But you're an empath," she protested. "When I feel bad, then you feel just as bad."  
"And the other way around too," he reminded her. "When you feel good, so do I. And you have brought me so much joy the past months. Don't underestimate that. I'd say you have the right to cry every now and again, in my presence. I'm not going to dump you because of it."  
Those words did relief her, and as she headed towards him again, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.   
"Thanks, sweetheart," she said emotionally. "I'll be right back then."   
As she took her suitcase and headed upstairs, Rumford sighed. The timing for her emotional breakdown hadn't been good, but he tried to remain optimistic and told himself that it could only get better from now on. And if it didn't, then it was only a short weekend they'd spend at the cabin.


	11. Covered in Snow

The bedroom was just as beautiful as the rest of the cabin. There was no window in the bedroom itself, only in the hallway next to it, but as she turned on the light button on the wall, the two nightlights next to the bed went on, giving a warm yellow light to the rest of the room. The red duvet looked wonderfully warm, and the dark wooden dresser seemed to be handmade, like most other items in the cabin.   
Belle thought it was weird - the thought of sharing his bed while they had not even kissed. He was really taking his time in expressing a physical interest to her.   
Another thought crossed her mind, and she frowned because of it. What if he was asexual? What if he had not kissed her because he had not felt a physical interest in her? What if their relationship was meant to be platonic, with nothing but a few hugs added to it?   
If he were asexual, it would explain why he had been single for so long... Among other things.  
Perhaps it was something they could discuss at another time. For now, Belle just wanted to shake off the dark feelings of before. She wanted to be cheerful again, and it helped to clear out her suitcase.   
She changed into a warm green sweater before she brushed her hair and went downstairs again, finding Rumford in front of the fireplace, tossing a few logs on the fire that he had just lit.   
"Are you cold?" he asked her carefully. "Dove already lit the fireplace yesterday, so that it wouldn't be freezing inside today. But it's still colder than it would be at my place - or yours."   
"I'm not warm," she agreed honestly. "But I'll be fine. I don't mind the cold as much when I know it will get warmer."  
She stood next to him, letting her hands reach for the fire, warming them as Rumford got up from his knees and stood beside her, rubbing his hands clean.   
"Shall we head into the kitchen and cook something together?" he suggested, taking his cane. "I've got the ingredients for a quiche and a lasagna here, or we could make tacos."  
Belle chuckled. "Isn't that all a bit cheesy?"  
He frowned, not immediately understanding what she meant, but once he got her pun, he rolled his eyes and dragged her along to the kitchen.  
"Alright, miss punny, I see what you did there. Come on, you get to choose."  
"Lasagna then!" she decided with a laugh, her earlier bad mood slowly disappearing as she decided to just enjoy the moment. She was in a beautiful cabin with a beautiful man, and it only seemed right that they'd try to have a beautiful time now. She would try her hardest not to be a downer again. 

As the lasagna stood in the oven, they put on their coats again and went through the backdoor onto the porch. Belle immediately went to sit on the large wooden swing, amused that there was an equally large pillow on it, and she moved over so Rumford could join her. After he had sat down, they gazed out over the water, the forest quiet now that winter had approached.   
She took his hand, hoping he had forgiven her for her earlier moment of weakness, and as he gently squeezed it, she felt like he had.   
"It's so quiet and peaceful here," she said softly, gazing out over the lake. "I can understand why you'd come here - even when you're all alone."  
"It might just be my favorite place in the world," he admitted in an equally soft tone. "I feel at peace here, and it's a place where I can spoil those parts of myself that otherwise get so horribly neglected."  
She turned to look at him, wondering what he meant with that precisely, and he explained: "The music I can play here makes me feel less alone, as though I am in the presence of actual living souls. The pool table gives me a challenge, like it's a game of wits, testing my own insights and skills. And the sauna can physically warm me when I have no one else to do just that for me. Even with all of this, I'm still a lonely man at my core - but sometimes when I'm here I'm able to fool myself that I really don't need anything else."  
Belle felt a little sad for him and let her head rest on his shoulder, hoping he realized that those days were behind him now.   
As he rested his own head against hers, he sighed: "But when I'm with you, it's like I need nothing else. You bring me the same peace."  
She lifted his hand and gently kissed it, before she kept it warmly in her own hands.   
"But do I give you the same peace?" he wondered quietly. "Do I complete you in the way you complete me?"  
She could hear the doubt in his voice, and she wondered if this was what had been holding him back those past months.   
"Do you think I'm not happy with you?" she asked him, hoping he'd be honest in his reply.   
"No, I believe you are happy," he replied without any doubt in his voice. "But part of me feels like you're always rather content... I can't really say that I feel like I'm the cause of your happiness... Not that I feel like that is what I need to be - it is perfectly fine if you are happy without me. But the question I have isn't if you're happy with me - but if I am enough for you. I wonder if you look at me the way I look at you, wondering what I did to deserve you... hoping I'll never lose you... and fearing the moment you'll tire of me."  
Part of her felt honored he looked at her that way, but another part of her was insulted - because he doubted that she felt as pure about him as he felt about her.   
"Rumford," she started a little impatiently. "Do you even see me for what I truly am?" She moved her head off his shoulder to stare him straight in the eye. "I am not some divine creature that ascended from heaven to spend time with you mortals, but I'm a young woman who has felt like an outcast her entire life! I've had so little meaningful connections in my life, so little people who could keep up with my humor or responded in kind to my own attention to them. I've felt unappreciated so many times, and it's like no one truly knows me or cares to get to know me - except for you. You accept me for the bookish woman I am, you don't try to distract me from what I truly love by taking me to pubs or sports games or by taking me hunting or something I have no interest in! You're like me in so many ways, and you let me be myself when I'm with you. I know what would happen if I lost you... I'd be completely miserable, fearing I'd never find someone like you again - someone who doesn't judge and simply understands me and my silly quirks. Someone who expresses love not by calling me beautiful every five seconds and commenting on my physical attributes, someone who keeps his hands off me and still shows his appreciation for my company, who is truly interested in who I am inside and how I feel as a person, and who doesn't use me to parade around town like I'm a prize he won. I didn't even consider there were men like you in this world until I actually met you! You are the most considerate, loving man I have ever met, and part of me now worries if I'm doing something wrong because you haven't even tried to kiss me and we've been so close for so long now."  
She sounded a little desperate as she said all that, and Rumford felt a warm glow in his heart, putting an arm around her so he could spread that warmth to her. She was a little worried, he could sense that, but she was loving too, and as he kissed her on the forehead to show his appreciation, he heard her sigh.   
"Seriously though, why don't you just kiss me on the lips?" she wondered quietly.   
"Because I'm waiting for the right moment..." he replied mysteriously.  
She turned her head to face him, the desperation in her eyes now.  
"When is that going to be?" she demanded to know. "Do you want me to say that I love you first? What do I need to do?"  
He chuckled, amused by how eager she was for his kiss and a little emotional because she had basically said that she loved him.   
"It will happen when the time is right," he promised her, but she just rolled her eyes.  
"No but seriously, what do you even mean by that?" she wondered. "What is it you are waiting for?"  
"The right time," he repeated.   
Belle frowned and shook her head.  
"Seriously though, are you waiting for rose petals to fall from the sky or loving music to start playing? Or are you just looking for an excuse not to kiss me? If you don't want to kiss me, all you need to do is say so and I won't hope for it to happen."   
Now he frowned as well, surprised she felt that way.   
"You think I don't want to kiss you?"  
"Well you're looking for excuses not to, or so it seems to me." She was feeling impatient, and in some way it amused him that she was so very eager to lock lips with him.  
He kept quiet for a few moments, gazing out over the lake again, trying to search his own feelings.   
"It is true that I want the moment to be special," he admitted.  
"Why?"  
"Because if it isn't... If I'm just like an ordinary Joe stealing a kiss from you, then will you even remember? Will you even continue to want me? You might not like it... And then I might lose you."  
Belle sighed. "Rumford, if I dislike the first kiss, I'm not gonna stop kissing you. After all, practice makes perfect and I can't even imagine you being a bad kisser."  
"But I might still be," he said with a chuckle. "I might be the most horrible kisser in all of Storybrooke, and then you'd be stuck with me, and I'd be so in love with you that I'd try to steal a kiss here and there while you would wish I wouldn't."   
"Or perhaps I would be the one stealing the kisses," Belle corrected him. "Would you mind that? If I stole the kisses from you instead of the other way around?"  
He grinned and shook his head. "No of course I wouldn't mind if you stole the kisses, Belle. I mean, that would mean that they were alright, and that you would feel comfortable enough around me to..."  
She stopped him in his rant though. And not with a glance or a word, but with her own lips, pressing them against his so he would stop this talking and just give into what they both wanted. She was done with giving fear and insecurities another chance to stop them. This kiss was happening right now, for she could not bear the thought of waiting any longer.   
He had his eyes open as she kissed him, her entire face way too close to continue looking at her, but he was too baffled to do anything else, the sensation of her soft lips on his so very sweet and arousing, and for a brief moment he enjoyed it before he pulled back, fearing she would dislike it.   
She immediately stopped her kiss the moment he pulled back, though she longed for more of it, and in his confusion he tried to sense what she felt. There was relief on her side, lust too, and the eagerness and love in her eyes convinced him to try it again. Properly this time.   
Taking her face in his hands, he gently brought his mouth to hers, this kiss so much better than the first as both of them saw it coming now. He felt his stomach jump as she moved her lips over his, the soft sensation almost like tickling, and he could not help but smile against her mouth, kissing her again when he felt she pulled back because of it.   
The discussion was over, that much was certain, and they hardly felt the cold as they sat there, kissing one another over and over again.   
It only took him a few minutes before he was completely aroused, but he wasn't going to let Belle know that, glad his long coat covered that bit of his pants. But he could hardly stop himself - it just felt too good and he picked up on too much lust from her side in return. How was a man to resist that?   
They eventually stopped when they heard an alarm inside the cabin go off.   
"Lasagna," Belle whispered against his lips, her eyes still closed.   
"I know," he muttered, stealing another kiss before he eventually opened his eyes and looked at her again. As he gazed behind her, he noticed how it had started to snow and he nodded towards the lake. "It has finally begun to snow."  
Belle chuckled. "Good... Sounds like a perfect time to cuddle up by the fire and kiss some more..."  
He blushed, knowing he would like that very much as well. "And the lasagna?"  
"We can reheat it later," she whispered playfully. "My hunger at this moment isn't for lasagna..."  
He licked his lips, finding her the most divine creature he had ever seen. As he got up, his arousal was still pulsing for attention, the thought of not being able to give into it almost painful while he wanted her so badly, but he had to focus on his angel instead, smiling warmly at her as he pulled her up as well.  
"The couch it is," he agreed, pushing her in front of him towards the backdoor, and though they felt a little drowsy from all the kissing, they made sure they got back inside as quickly as possible.   
They took off their coats and Rumford headed to the kitchen to get the lasagna out of the oven. It smelled great, but he wasn't hungry at all right now - it was like he was living off of love instead.   
When he stepped into the living room again, he saw Belle sitting on the couch, her hands in her lap as she licked her lips. Her hair was a little messy from how he had held her before, but he honestly still thought she was the most desirable woman in all the universe. As he joined her by her side, however, he had not expected her to put her legs on either side of him, straddling him before she leaned in for another kiss. He could not help but hold her in her sides, hoping she would not notice his arousal too soon, but she could sense his distraction and stopped her kissing, looking him into the eyes instead to see that he was a little nervous about something.   
Narrowing her eyes, she tried to sense him like he often sensed her, and his blushing betrayed the arousal he tried to keep hidden from her. She did not let him know she knew, and just kissed him again, glad to notice he was still returning her kisses. He was far from the worst kisser she had ever met - in fact, he was quite the opposite. He was sensual and held her tightly in his arms as he kissed her, slightly panting whenever she would break their kisses.   
She wondered if she could elicit a moan from the shy and inexperienced mister Gold and set about finding his most sensitive spot. She started by kissing his jaw, his ragged breathing betraying how he enjoyed it, and she felt him freeze as she kissed him underneath his ear lobe, and as she continued she felt him chuckle.   
"That tickles," he remarked gently, pulling her away a little by guiding her hips away from him, forcing her to pull her face away as well.   
"Good," she whispered, then licking her lips as she looked at him. "Now stop fighting it..."  
She went back to the same spot with her mouth, softly licking his ear lobe as she felt him shudder.  
"Belle!" he muttered, his breathing becoming heavier with every moment, and as she undid his tie and tossed it to the side, she soon unbuttoned the top of his shirt, moving the hem of it so she could kiss his neck wherever she pleased. She could sense him tensing up, knowing that she was getting close to another sensitive spot, and when she kissed it, she finally elicited the moan she had so yearned for. A deep, longing rumble escaped his throat, and as he threw his head backwards to expose even more of his skin to her, Belle did not pull away from him.  
While one hand caressed the back of his head, the other headed down his chest, heading steadily for the arousal he hoped she had not noticed. When she reached the hem of his pants and found the belt buckle, however, she was surprised by how quickly his hand stopped her, and she immediately became aware of the instant fear that had overtaken him.  
"Relax," she whispered in his ear. "Don't be afraid... I know what I'm doing..."   
Though he still felt anxious, he let go of her hand, and deciding to get his emotions focused on his arousal instead of fear again, she went back to kissing his neck. She teased his stomach though, tickling him a little before she let her hand rest on top of his arousal, the layers of fabric not hiding how warm he felt down there, or how hard he had precisely grown for her.   
It appeared his size left nothing for her to be desired, and she eagerly continued her game of trying to elicit a moan from him, but he was rather quiet until the moment she finally undid his belt and buttons and slipped her hand into his pants, wrapping around his member.   
He couldn't think or say anything as she started jerking him off, his hands still resting on her back while he had his eyes closed, giving into the delightful sensation of her warm fingers bringing him to release. He could hear how wet her hands were as she moved them over him, wondering if he wasn't making a fool of himself by being so aroused, but soon he could not fight his moans as she sped up her movements, all the while licking his sensitive earlobe.   
He spoke her name in warning once, when he felt the point of no return overcome him, and when he finally came in her hands, he moaned louder than before, his emotions nothing but lust and relief, not noticing the mess he had made on his own clothes or Belle's until after she had stopped placing sweet kisses on his lips.   
"Belle," he whispered, a little exhausted from what had just happened. "That was... amazing... Thank you."  
She was proud of that compliment, kissing him once more, whispering: "I wanted to do that... Perhaps we can have a quick shower and head into the sauna soon?"  
Looking down at the state of his own pants and shirt, he even spotted that some of his cum had landed on Belle's sweater and he sighed.  
"Ugh, I'm sorry about the mess."  
She chuckled. "Don't apologize. Sex and everything to do with it is usually a little messy. Doesn't mean we should avoid it."  
Her words only made him believe that she actually wanted sex with him - and for the first time ever, he believed it.   
"So eh... That shower and sauna you mentioned," he began nervously. "Would you like to go alone?"  
She poked his chest. "Don't be silly, Rumford. Come with me. It's my first ever sauna and someone needs to teach me the tricks of the trade."  
He gulped. "Like... naked?"  
She kissed his nose. "You're cute when you're shy. Yes, naked. Doesn't have to be sexual, you know. Just a little sexy." She winked at him as she got up and she carefully pulled off her sweater, and his mouth dropped a little as he saw the red bra she wore underneath. He had never seen so much of her skin exposed before, and he did not know if he was ever going to survive seeing her naked if he already felt so incredibly humbled to see her without a sweater.   
"Sexy indeed," he muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from her, and she laughed.   
"Come on Rumford, let's go."  
As she headed toward the kitchen and gazed through the window, she raised her eyebrows.   
"Look at that... The place is already covered in snow, with no end to the snowfall in sight. We might get snowed in."  
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, kissing her gently in her neck. "I would not mind," he muttered.   
"Ah, yes," she said with a grin, glad to hear him give into his own desires for a change. "There are far worse fates in life."


	12. Heating up Together

As they entered the bathroom, Rumford first turned on the sauna, then limped towards the chair next to the shower and sat down. He started by taking off his shoes, glimpsing at Belle to see how she quickly kicked off her own, then took off her skirt and leggings, offering him a glimpse of her red panties. She turned to look at him, catching his eye as he was staring at her, and she smiled.   
"Do you like what you see?" she asked, a mischievous smile on her face, and he blushed as he nodded.  
"Very much so."  
He had only taken off one shoe so far, and so Belle approached him, kneeling down to undo the laces of his other shoe, pulling it off before she focused on his shirt and started unbuttoning it. His cum had left some stains, and though part of him could not wait to get out of his shirt, another part feared Belle would not like the man underneath the fancy clothes. He became very aware of his tummy and hardly dared to look at her as she tried to help him out of his pants. He could not help but worry about what she had to be thinking of him, and as the scar on his leg became visible and she tossed his pants to the side, he watched her expression.   
She was frowning as she looked at the scar tissue on his lower leg, her fingers tracing the massive scar that ran from his ankle up until his knee, and she looked sorry.   
"Does it hurt a lot?" she wondered gently, and he shook his head.  
"Not really," he replied. "But it annoys me. I can't lean on it like a normal man can... It can't support my weight. The bone never healed properly." Once more he looked at his own tummy, but Belle was quick to distract him, gently kissing his knee before she stood up, helping him get up from his seat.   
"Time to shower," she decided bravely, and as she turned around, she lifted her hair to the side. "Will you undo my bra?"  
He was a little surprised that she would want him to take it off for her, but he gladly accepted the challenge, immediately noticing that he had no idea how to undo that particular type of lock. He fumbled with it for a few moments until he realized how it worked and opened it, and as Belle pulled off her bra while she still had her back turned to him, he gulped. He could only imagine how beautiful she had to look, and as if the thought of seeing her topless wasn't exciting enough, she also took off her panties.   
If he hadn't just come already, he would have surely had an erection at the sight, and as she turned around again, he could only look at her with his mouth open.   
"Beautiful," he said after a few moments of silence, looking at her with hungry eyes, drinking in the sight of her without shame for once.   
She stood as straight as ever - still a tiny woman compared to many - but she held her head high and did not mind his eyes as they lingered on all the secret places of her body.   
"Shall I help you out of your briefs as well?" she offered, and he raised one hand to stop her.  
"Please, I have a little bit of pride left in me," he said darkly, and as he took off his briefs and tossed them to the side, he hoped he wasn't disappointing to her.  
She seemed impressed though, and said: "You're not small by any measure... Quite the opposite, Rumford."  
He raised an eyebrow at that remark, and she continued in an explaining tone: "My exes were taller than you, quite a bit taller than you, actually, but by no means were they bigger in that area. It's a pleasant surprise, I must say."   
"Not too big, I hope?" he replied awkwardly, and he was relieved to hear her chuckle.   
"I don't think so... We'll see when we decide to have some actual intercourse."  
He gulped, glad that she mentioned it so casually. At least it meant that she had not scrapped those plans out of their near future. If she was willing to have sex with him, then he would gladly wait for her to engage it.   
As she entered the shower, she waited for him to join her. When he stumbled inside the small cabin, she turned on the water, which was so freezing cold at first, that Rumford gasped and Belle shrieked.   
"Dear lord!" Rumford breathed out, shivering all over. "That will wake up a man!"  
"Sorry!" Belle squealed, standing back from the icy rays of water. "I didn't know it would be this cold!"  
"It's because the pipes are probably frozen," he explained. "We're not in the center of town here, but far from civilization, and it takes a minute before the boiler kicks into action. It's separate from the system that heats up the sauna here."  
As the water slowly became warmer, they could both breathe easy again, and they laughed a little as they realized they had had quite a scare.   
"Try not to get your hair wet yet," he said, gently taking her hair and lifting it so the water would not touch it.   
"Why not?" she wondered. "Won't the sauna dry it?"  
"Not really. Best to wear a towel around your head, actually, keeping the hair a little moist. Saunas aren't good for the quality of your hair. The heat will damage it."  
"And here I was thinking I was the one giving you all the hair advice," she joked.   
"If you want to get your hair wet, wait until after the sauna. You can take another shower then and wash it."   
She nodded.   
"And you'll wear a towel around your head as well?"  
"Of course," he replied, that streak of vanity playing up again. "Wouldn't want to damage my hair."  
Belle chuckled, glad to hear that some things never changed, and as she ran her hands over her wet body to clean herself up a little, she could not help but notice Rumford's distracted gaze. He took a deep breath and admitted: "That sight will do things to a man..."  
She chuckled. Moving her hands from her own body to his, rinsing off his chest and stomach, causing him to bite his lip in anticipation.   
"Better this way?" she asked, glancing up at him.   
"That will do things to a man as well," he said darkly.   
He was still holding her hair, but he did not want her to stop.   
As she moved her hands to his member to rinse it off a bit as well, he gasped softly, still unused to another person touching him there.   
"Careful now," he warned her playfully. "Wouldn't want to wake him up again."  
Belle giggled. "Never tickle a sleeping dragon, ey?"   
Rumford narrowed his eyes. "Are you referencing Harry Potter while we're both naked and taking a shower?"  
Belle chuckled, amused that he had actually recognized that phrase - it meant that he had bothered to read the books. She had borrowed them to him about a month ago, not expecting him to have taken the time to read them, and she had definitely not imagined him to pick up on references already.   
"Aye," she replied in as Scottish an accent as she could muster, and this inspired Rumford to tease her back.   
He let his hand run over her breast, watching her as she bit her lip, then moved his hand to her lower patch of curls, gently exploring her nether regions with his fingers. He only saw approval and lust as he looked into her eyes, and he joked: "Don't mind me exploring your chamber of secrets, ey?"  
She laughed so loud that Rumford could not help but laugh in return, amused by his goofy girlfriend.   
As she tried to keep a straight face, she replied: "Perhaps later, I'll let you... slither... in..."  
They both laughed again, and Rumford stopped his teasing for now, making sure the ray of water would not touch their hair as he invited her for a wet kiss.   
They held onto each other's naked, wet bodies as they kissed some more, and Rumford was already completely convinced that this was the best day ever - and it was hardly 2 PM yet.   
As they broke the kiss, they smiled, perfectly content in each other's company.   
Belle knew it was best to get out of the shower and into the sauna, before she was able to arouse Rumford a second time.   
"So now that we've showered a bit, what do we do, enter the sauna straight away?" she asked curiously.   
"No, best to dry off first," Rumford replied, his voice all business again for now. "And we should drink a bit of water too. We're about to lose a lot of fluids."  
"And you've already lost plenty of fluids the past twenty minutes," Belle added with a naughty wink, causing Rumford to chuckle.   
"Good point. If at any time during the sauna you feel dizzy or strange, let me know. We'll be in there for fifteen minutes tops. I sometimes do fifty myself, but since it's your first time, it's best to start with a shorter amount of time."  
"Got it," she said, eager to enter the sauna now.   
As Gold turned off the water, Belle stepped out, taking two large towels of the rack and handing one to Rumford. As they dried themselves off, Rumford wrapped the towel around his waist and headed into the kitchen again, returning a few minutes later with two large glasses of water.   
"Bottoms up!" he encouraged her as he handed her the glass, inspecting and approving of her towel-dress, and they both tried to drink the glass as quickly as they could. Belle won that little drinking match, and Rumford narrowed his eyes.   
"I'd like to see you do that with whiskey," he muttered darkly, faking jealousy.   
She chuckled. "You seem to forget I have Australian roots," she replied quickly. "We have been known to drink Scotsmen under the table every now and then..."  
"Oh I doubt that!" he replied fiercely.  
"I don't." She raised her eyebrows in a challenging way. "You're not better drinkers than us, you're just better at bragging about it."  
"Look who's bragging now, though!"  
Belle shrugged casually. "I'd challenge you to a match, but to be honest I've got other plans with you for this weekend. Maybe another time..."  
He chuckled. He couldn't agree more. He had no intention of spending the weekend with a hangover.  
"Wrap the towel around your hair," he instructed her, doing the same for himself. "And take another one with you to sit on."  
Belle followed his example, letting him guide her into the sauna, already surprised by the heat inside.   
"Oh wow," she remarked. "Quite hot in here."  
"Not as hot as you are," he replied with a wink.   
Belle laughed. "Save the cheese for when we have our lasagna later today."  
He chuckled as well, amused by his witty, beautiful lover.  
Looking around the small sauna, she noticed that there were two levels to sit on.  
"Sit on the lower level," he advised her, following her gaze. "It won't be as hot as the top level."  
As he put down his towel on the highest level and clumsily climbed up and sat down on it, she followed his lead on the bench beneath his, already noticing how she was beginning to sweat.  
"Do I lay down or sit?"  
"Sitting might be better for your first visit. Do you ever have low blood pressure?"  
"Not really," she admitted. "Only when I've got a bad cold sometimes."  
"Good," he muttered as he lay himself down on his stomach, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them again as he reminded himself of something."Take the little clock by the door. Keep an eye on the time. No more than fifteen minutes for you. Just to check how your body can handle it."  
"I'm already sweating..."  
"As am I. That's a good response. Don't worry about it."  
The heat was nice in a strange way. It warmed her to the bones, and she looked at Rumford behind her, unable to stop staring at his butt for a little while. Its curve was inspiring her with thoughts of gently squeezing it, though she kept her hands to herself.  
"It's bad form to think of sex in a sauna," he muttered, sensing what her thoughts had been about as he had caught her staring at his bum. Her feeling of lust only made him sure of what he had guessed, and Belle blushed. "I'm sorry," she apologized, and Rumford chuckled.  
"I'm not holier than you in that regard. I caught myself staring at you as well."  
"Then why stop all thoughts of lust?" she asked carefully. "If we both think the same..."  
"It's just not a good thing to get accustomed to. Saunas aren't meant to be sexual. Imagine letting yourself get aroused here and now. Or having actual sex. It's too hot to engage in such an activity here anyway. Actual Finnish people would judge you for even thinking about sex in a sauna. They would not be amused hearing this conversation."  
"You know many Fins?" Belle wondered.  
"None," he replied with a small laugh. "But I have read up on sauna cultures and habits. One is expected to behave like one would in a church."  
"Then I'll be very quiet," she concluded, not minding at all to focus on other things but him.   
As it only got warmer, she was able to relax more. Though she was unused to the heat, she wasn't uncomfortable because of it, just a bit lazy. She could not remember ever sweating as much and kept her eye on the clock. She was starting to look forward to a refreshing shower.   
When the fifteen minutes were finally over, she got up from her seat, seeing that Rumford had his eyes closed again.   
"Will you be staying a while longer?" she asked politely. "I need to go now."  
He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, smiling.  
"You've done really well. You didn't complain about the heat once."  
She was flattered by that compliment and smiled, not sure how to respond to it.   
"I'm joining you..." he said, standing up and limping to her.   
She did not like to see him walk with so much trouble, and so she offered him her arm as he came down, and he gratefully leaned on her as they left the sauna together.   
Once outside, he turned off the sauna and Belle realized how wonderful her body felt - even while it was sweaty.  
"Shall I now take a shower?" she proposed, taking the towel off her head so her hair was loose again, and he did the same.   
"No, best to wait a little bit," he advised her. "Wouldn't want to put your body in a shock. Allow your body to cool down a bit before you head into the shower."  
Afraid she'd be standing about for an hour, she asked: "And how long do we wait then?"  
"Five to ten minutes. Just to be safe."  
As he wrapped his towel around his waist, Belle used her own to make a dress, and he looked at her approvingly. As they discussed their plans for the rest of the day - washing their hair, having lasagna, spending some quality time in the living room - they both felt incredibly content, and after the shower, they spoiled each other by taking care of the other's hair. Rumford in particular was quite content to brush Belle's hair and to blow dry it for a change. He had never imagined doing such a thing, but it was nice to be the one to take care of Belle's beautiful hair.   
By the time they were done, they were still only wearing the towels, and since they had left some stains on their clothes before the sauna visit, they decided to head upstairs to get something clean to wear. As they entered the kitchen again, it appeared like it was still snowing outside, and it was colder than it had been in the bathroom.   
"So much snow," Belle muttered. "Makes me want to lock the door and sit by the fire."  
Rumford chuckled. "Don't worry. We can do that. Let's get something to wear though. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold."  
As they headed up the stairs, Belle in front of Rumford, he could not help but peak under her towel, liking the view of her bum. She happened to look behind her at that moment and noticed what had distracted him.  
"Admiring the view?" she teased him.  
He chuckled. "Aye. Can't help but want to give it a squeeze."  
As they made it up the stairs, Belle stopped and waited for him, saying in a mysterious tone: "Permission granted."  
He gulped while she waited for him to make a move.   
In truth, he had not expected her to take him so seriously - even if he had not been lying. Now he felt a bit silly as he tried to figure how he could squeeze her bottom without appearing ridiculous.   
She was still waiting for his move, standing next to the bedroom door with her hands behind her back, looking at him with that same lust in her eyes he had seen before. He could not get enough of it. Closing the distance between them, he put his hands in her neck as he kissed her passionately. The eager way in which she returned his kiss told him all he needed to know about her own desire, and he pulled the towel off her, feeling how this only excited her further, for she pressed her own body only harder against his.   
He let his hands squeeze her bum, his lips meeting more hungry and approving kisses of Belle.   
He could not help but shiver when Belle pulled his towel off him as well, and as they kept on kissing, he tried to guide her into the bedroom, glad he did not need words to tell her he wanted to get her onto the bed.   
As they fell down on the sheets and continued kissing, Rumford could feel his balls tighten as he quickly grew erect again, not really surprised that she elicited that response from him. While his hands explored her buttocks and breasts, hers were soon on his member again, slowly jerking him off, and he gasped as he pulled away from her kiss.   
"Belle," he breathed out, his tone hoarser than ever. "You don't have to do that..."  
Truth be told, if she always indulged his pleasure, it was hard for him to focus on hers, and he continued: "Please don't... Not right now. Just let me... let me repay the favor first."  
She kept quiet and smiled, intrigued by that request.   
He could sense her approval and slowly brought his hand down between her legs, gently exploring her body's most secret place. She just smiled at him as he felt her patch of curls, but started biting her lip when his finger found her slit and gently stroked it. He carefully pushed her legs open, glad she did not resist, and when he reached for her slit again, she sharply breathed in, bracing herself for the feelings he was stirring in her.   
To be honest, he really didn't feel like he knew what he was doing. Though he had read up on sex, he was still new to it, and he had never brought a woman to pleasure in his entire life. It was time to change that and to show Belle that he could bring her pleasure as well. He owed her that much.   
As he let his fingers gently stroke her sensitive knob, he kissed her as sweetly as he could, the raging passion of before now much kinder and softer. They both calmed down a bit because of it, and after he broke the kiss, he slowly moved himself down on the bed.  
Belle thought him to be very brave as he moved ever lower, and she did not really expect him to be as fast as he was when he put his head between her legs and pressed a kiss on her lower lips. She looked at him incredulously, and he admitted: "I've always dreamed of doing this one day... But... I'm not particularly experienced. Let me know if I should change something."  
She nodded, glad to help him with her advice, though he did not seem to immediately need it.   
He went down on her again, licking her with such passion that she thought she would soon see stars. As he licked her up and down, she did not feel like she would come any time soon because of it, but it was a massive turn-on regardless. She was breathing heavily by the time he brought a finger to her entrance, gently circling it before he slid it in, and Belle moaned in approval.   
He was exploring her, trying to figure out her anatomy, and she let him. He was gentle and careful as he felt her inner walls, and in combination with his licks, it felt like he was truly spoiling her.   
Only a few minutes later did he enter her with two fingers, and she gasped loudly as he started flicking his tongue from side to side, much faster and harder than before, and for a moment it felt like she was going insane.   
"Rumford!" she gasped in approval, and he only continued faster because of it. That was what he had been waiting for - that exact response - and he felt pride swell up inside of him as he eagerly continued, glad he had figured it out himself.   
As he gently curled his fingers inside of her, she could feel her own release coming, and when he felt her inner walls contract around his fingers, he noticed how she pushed away his head as well, and he immediately stopped his licking, feeling how her climax could be felt in the pinching around his fingers.  
"Incredible," he muttered, not pulling out his fingers until he had felt the last wave of pleasure wash over her.   
As he looked at his beauty's face, he could see how her cheeks were red, her mouth half-open from panting, but she had a happy smile on her face as well.   
"You're so beautiful," he said full of longing, and as she smiled, he became a little self-aware. "Excuse me for a moment," he apologized himself as he got up from the bed and limped to the bathroom, his member still erect against his stomach.   
He took a minute to wash his hands as well as his face. It had been sticky business, though he had not been repelled by her taste at all. It had been an interesting experience, one he wished to relive. The sooner, the better.   
When he returned, he felt presentable again, and he saw how she was looking at his erection, biting her lip.   
"Just ignore it," he instructed her as he lay besides her, pulling her closer towards him to give her another kiss, and she eagerly returned it.   
"It's a little big to ignore though," she whispered playfully and he could not help but chuckle at the innocent way in which she said that.   
"Seriously though. Just because it's up doesn't mean it's your job to tend to it, Belle."   
Part of her wanted to reply that she knew that, but another part of her felt like it was her responsibility to take care of him. Yet at the same time, she realized he was just trying to tell her that she did not owe him anything, and that he would respect her wish if she decided she didn't want to engage in further sexual activities with him. It was a sign of respect, and she appreciated it.  
"I understand," she replied softly. "But if you want me to take care of it, all you need to do is ask."  
"I will. But not today."  
Belle was a little confused by that answer, frowning as she looked at him, and he explained: "Today has been amazing so far... But I'd like to keep some of the excitement for tomorrow and Sunday as well."  
Thinking that she understood now what he meant, she said: "So no sex today?"  
"Not today," he agreed, still holding her close as he pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "But I'd be happy to cuddle some more with you tonight."  
Belle chuckled. "It might be difficult to keep the situation from escalating... You're a handsome man and you certainly do turn me on."  
Those words were doing nothing to relieve the tension in his already erect member, and he bit his lip as he looked over her. It was difficult indeed to resist her. Especially at a time that he could feel she had more lust than love on her mind.   
As he rolled away from her, he said: "We came here to get dressed... Perhaps we should just continue with our day - fully clothed, that is. It should make the tension bearable again."  
Belle tried to forget her own desire for a moment and position herself in his shoes. To him, intimacy was new. She could understand how he could feel a little scared to be so very intimate with her over such a short period of time. There was no reason to push him, after all. They did have all the weekend to themselves - and if they wanted it, an entire lifetime afterwards.


	13. Fun and Games

They were able to keep their hands off of one another for the rest of the afternoon. They ate their lasagna together, did the dishes together, and then sat by the fire to read for a small hour. That was something which Belle really appreciated since it gave both of them a chance to recharge and to let their emotions rest for a while. And after that they decided to play a game of pool.   
Rumford had expected to win, but in the first minute he already realized that Belle was a proper match for him. He did not understand why though, for he certainly could not imagine her playing pool in the Rabbit Hole, and there were no other opportunities to play pool in Storybrooke. She smiled as she could see the frustration and confusion on his face after she pocketed a ball that seemed completely blocked.   
"I played pool at university," she explained with a smirk. "We had a tournament in my second year. My team came in second. We lost to the math students."  
He had been so convinced he was going to be able to teach her a few tips and tricks, but it seemed like she really didn't need any. He was not going to be a jerk about it, and so he did not give her any either. She was a grown woman and she seemed to know fully well what she was doing.  
In the end, she even beat him, and he wasn't very happy about it, though he could not blame her either. She didn't dare to gloat about it, and carefully suggested: "Would you like a rematch?"  
He took on the challenge, and this time he did win. Part of him thought she had let him win, though another part knew she had tried her hardest, and he had had more luck this round.   
"Seems we're a decent match for one another," she remarked.   
"In more ways than just one," he added with a smile, unable to express how happy he was that he had found Belle, and she nodded.   
"Couldn't agree more," she said gently, looking around her and getting distracted by the large jukebox in the corner of the room. As it was getting darker outside and inside the room, the bright lights drew even more attention to them, and Belle glanced inside the device.   
"It works with vinyl records?" she wondered, slightly surprised it wasn't a more modern device that worked with CD's.  
"Indeed it does," he replied eagerly, limping over to her and standing still besides her, letting her read the song titles that he had written down himself.   
"A lot of old music," she remarked, not really judging him for that.  
"Well, it's hard to find gramophone records nowadays. I don't think I've found any in Storybrooke since the early nineties."  
"You could probably order them online though," Belle advised him, and he grinned.   
"Aye. I suppose I could. Never really bothered me though. The entire jukebox is filled. And it's not like I've had much company here... Never had anyone here to dance with before..."  
Belle lit up at those words, and as she took his hand, she sweetly asked: "You'd like to dance with me?"  
His relaxed expression fell for a moment, feeling a little frustrated with himself as he leaned onto his cane, and he cast down his eyes.   
"Like, yes. But can... no."  
Belle picked up on his miserable mood and soon felt sad as a response.   
"Oh, sweet Rumford..." She leaned into him and kissed his cheek. "I will dance with you regardless of your limp. You can lean on me if you like."  
As he looked at her with a hopeful gaze, she kissed his lips, smiling as she noticed a penny on the corner of the jukebox. As she picked it up and slid it in the machine, she was quick to pick a number, and as the record got put on, Rumford was curious about what song she had chosen.   
"Nights in White Satin?" he wondered as he recognized the first notes, and Belle nodded, taking the cane from his hand so it could rest against the jukebox, and she was soon putting his hands onto her hips and hers in his neck, guiding him into the rhythm of the song, which he followed without much difficulty.   
His heart seemed to be beating in his throat though, his palms sweaty as he felt nervous from the thought of dancing. It wasn't as difficult as he had hoped though - not to this song, as he only needed to sway a little to the beat of it.   
In response to how well he was doing despite his limp, Belle soon leaned closer into him, resting her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to get soaked up into the music itself.   
Rumford closed his eyes as well, trying to etch the memory into his mind. Every time the words "How I love you" were sung, he could feel his own heart burst from the love he felt for Belle. Words could not describe how perfect she was or how happy she made him feel. He had never imagined someone like her to exist, or for them to be together like this, yet here they were, and he hoped it would never end.   
The song however, did come to an end after a few minutes, and when Belle pulled her head from his shoulder to look at him, she noticed the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. He could not explain them - not knowing if he had cried from joy or from the thought that he had missed Belle for so long in his life. If only he had known her sooner, then most of his life wouldn't have felt like such a waste. She did not question his tears though, understanding how sensitive he could be, and she just kissed his cheeks again, this time kissing away those sad tears, and he smiled because of it.   
"Another dance?" Belle asked gently. "I'm sure you must have some more slows in here. I don't think they're hurting you to dance, are they? Do you feel a strain in your leg because of it?"  
He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. At least for now."   
She returned to the jukebox, looking at the songs, but Rumford already knew which song would lend itself well for dancing with her.   
"Pick number eighty-seven," he told her, and she raised her eyebrows.   
"Annie's song?" she read.  
"It's by John Denver," he explained, and his cheeks turned a little red as he admitted: "I like it."  
She did as he had asked and went back into his arms to dance with him, not minding at all that he could not sweep her off her feet or waltz with her across the room. Just being in his arms, swaying to the rhythm was more than enough.   
They continued for several more songs like this, and there wasn't a place more peaceful in all of Storybrooke. Afterwards they sat down to drink some hot chocolate by the fire, looking into each other's eyes and telling each other stories of their past.  
They played some card games before they finally changed into their nightgowns and headed to bed. With the lights out, they crawled into each other's arms and shared a few tender kisses, not letting go as they fell asleep. Without a doubt, it had been the best day ever - for the both of them.


	14. Desire to Touch

The following morning, they were still linked in each other's arms as they woke up, Rumford a few minutes before Belle did, and he was looking at her as she opened her eyes. They shared a warm smile and a brief kiss, leaning their heads against each other in bliss, gently stroking the other person's side while they lay underneath the warm covers.  
Strangely enough, it did not take much for them to feel the lust from the day before return. They weren't even kissing, but their bodies were ready for more, aching for more kisses and touches. They both didn't say a word, not wanting to go down for breakfast just yet. They wanted to enjoy each other's company - and perhaps even more than that.  
Belle - in her curiosity - let her hand feel up his pants - and she learned enough from his aroused state to know that he was as hot for her as she was for him.  
Another kiss followed, this one more desperate than the sweet kiss of before, and Rumford's hand slid underneath Belle's nightdress, his fingers teasing her panties and soon coming to the conclusion that she was hot and wet for him. He was even surprised by it himself - feeling like he hadn't done anything yet to warrant such a response.  
They slowly began the process of undressing one another. First Rumford's shirt was to go - then Belle's nightgown - then his pants. Both of them were now only wearing their underpants, and their kisses began to trail their necks and chests, slow and sweet and full of hunger for one another.  
Their hands were also lingering on the other's underpants more often and longer as time went by, and soft moans were betraying their arousal. As Belle tried to jerk him off through the fabric of his pants, Rumford grinned. She was being a massive tease, alright, but he didn't want to come that way.  
Taking her wrist, he gently moved it besides her head, and as her other hand now sought his underpants instead, he soon had a hold of her other wrist as well, moving it far away from his private parts as well. As he leaned over her and looked at her in the darkness in the room, he could see the excitement in her eyes. He soon continued kissing her, the arousal they felt for one another apparent in the way their lips met, and Belle soon wrapped her legs around him, inviting him into her - if it wasn't for their underpants. Unable to wait a second longer, Rumford soon helped them both out of it.  
He took a hold of her hands again as they still lay besides her head, and he rubbed himself against her, enjoying the look of pleasure on her face. No morning breath or messy hair could ruin the moment now - she was moaning for him and as he took himself in hand, he slowly guided himself inside.  
He hid his face in her neck for a moment, the pleasure he felt at the intense contact almost enough for him to double over and come right then and there. It was quite a feat that he was able to resist so far, and his first thrusts were very slow - but despite that they all elicited another moan from his beautiful Belle.  
He kept a hold of Belle's hands. Not too tight, since it was not his intention to hurt her, but he knew that he would not be able to control himself if her soft hands were to roam his body. It would increase his arousal and he'd come in a matter of minutes then.  
He knew that he did not want this to last two minutes - it had to last longer - it had to be memorable. Not just for him, but for her, and so he continued his slow thrusts, looking deep into her eyes, reading her lust and approval. As he started circling his pelvis a little during his thrusts, he soon noticed that it felt even better for Belle. She was so aroused for him that her moans grew a little louder and she closed her eyes in pleasure every now and then. She wasn't saying it, but he knew that she was close, and so he continued, his movements controlled and steady, and when he felt her climax wash over her, he gasped, very sensitive to the contractions around his own arousal.  
He kept as quiet as was humanly possible, watching Belle's face as the last waves of pleasure washed over her, and he smiled when she opened her eyes to look at him. She was finally able to pull her hands from his grip and gently stroked his neck as she kissed him in gratitude. As far as orgasms came, this could be counted as one of the best in her life. Never before had she had a lover as gentle and caring as him.  
It meant that she was convinced to do the same for him - that she would give him an orgasm as well as she knew how, and she slowly leaned over him, forcing him to lay on his back, doing it so slowly that she didn't even slide out of him.  
With her on top, he put his hands on her hips, not directing her in any way, but watching her in appreciation as he moved his hands upwards for a moment to softly massage her breasts.  
Once more he was spoiling her, but she allowed it as she was still a little breathless and sensitive from her earlier orgasm. She wasn't ready to get started just yet, but quite liked his eyes on her, even if her hair was a mess.  
As she let him admire her for a minute or two, she did not take her eyes of his. He was aroused, alright, and she was going to prove to him that looks weren't everything. She had an ace up her sleeve, and was going to show him just exactly what that ace was.  
As she slowly rocked her hips, he hummed in approval, closing his eyes as he threw his head back, liking the rhythm she had picked for him. She watched him carefully, and when he looked completely relaxed, she decided to spice it up. Using nothing but the muscles of her inner walls, she contracted tightly around him as she moved down on him, and he gasped as he suddenly sat up, holding onto her for his dear life.  
"Belle!" he gasped, completely startled for the moment, and Belle gulped.  
She had not expected him to respond in that way and feared she had overdone it. "Too much?" she asked in a worried tone, and she only relaxed a little when he started to laugh.  
"For a moment it felt like you were trying to churn me for cream," he replied, laying down again. "Bloody hell, I didn't know you could control it so well."  
Belle chuckled, a blush on her face as she felt a little foolish now.  
"Shall I try it a little gentler?" she proposed sweetly, and he chuckled as he lay down and nodded.  
"Please, my love... That would be an interesting experience..."  
As she continued rocking her hips, she tried to be a little gentler when it came to squeezing her inner walls together, and the way his mouth dropped as he closed his eyes told Belle enough. This was making it hard on him to keep him from coming, and so every now and then she just continued without any extra pressure, only to hear him moan in lust when she did use those particular muscles on his erection.  
Every once in a while he'd open his eyes to look at her, licking his lips as he moved his hands over her breasts in appreciation for all that she was and shared with him. But as her muscles were now warmed up, the intensity of each rolling of her hips only increased to him, and his breath became a little uneven as she picked up the pace, making sure to apply some extra pressure on him every now and then.  
"Almost," he warned her, his eyes closed as he held onto her hips. "Gods, Belle, I'm so close..."  
She started moaning herself, the intensity of his shaft inside of her slowly affecting her own pleasure. She had been rather numb for a little while, but now what she was doing was once more beginning to tease her as well, and she only hoped he would come before she'd come herself.  
A final gasp betrayed he was ready, and he dug his fingers into her flesh as he held onto her hips, rocking up against her a few times as he spilled the last of his seeds inside of her, moaning in complete bliss. As he pushed so deeply into Belle, it was enough to bring her to another release as well, and her own moans mixed with his.  
He gasped as he tried to lift Belle off of him - her contracting muscles too much on his overly teased arousal. Belle sat down a little lower on his upper legs instead, the sticky business between their legs now betraying how wet they had made one another.  
She was going to need a shower to clean herself up - and some new sheets would not be a bad idea either.  
Rumford was still panting, a happy smile on his face as he looked at her, his hands once more ghosting over her stomach and breasts in appreciation of her beauty.  
"You're so perfect," he said softly. "You're everything I could have ever hoped for..."  
As she leaned forward to kiss him, he eagerly returned her kisses, turning her to her side so that she was no longer sitting on top of him, and he stroked her cheek.  
"Your last orgasm hit me by surprise," he muttered, and she chuckled.  
"And me... Not that you weren't worth it... You were perfect."  
They kissed each other once more, until Rumford suddenly pulled away, his eyes wide open as he realized something.  
"Belle... I... I didn't use protection..." He seemed incredibly worried, but Belle wasn't as worried as he was.  
"I had several checkups since my last boyfriend. I'm safe. And since you are – were – a virgin, you should be safe too.” She smiled excitedly. “I'm not worried about any diseases, if that's what you fear."  
He gulped, not entirely sure if he was asking things that were too private now. "And the pill?" he asked. "Or any other form of contraception?"  
She shook her head. "I'm not on a pill... But my period was just done last Tuesday. It's pretty safe to have sex in the few days right after your period."  
"Not entirely safe though," he said a little anxiously, gulping down his nerves.  
Belle shrugged. "Nothing is ever entirely safe. Neither are condoms or the pill. But I'd say we're pretty safe now. And if not..." Belle looked at Rumford to gauge his reaction. Was he against children?  
"If not, I'll still take care of you," he said carefully, though there was a bit of fear in his eyes. "But I just don't know if I'm ready to become a father... I'd like to appreciate this love between us the way it is - without having to share you with a baby... At least at this point..."  
Belle chuckled. "Point taken. And I agree. We'll be more careful from now on. I bought some condoms, by the way."  
Rumford turned red. "I bought some last week as well. Just to be safe."  
Belle gasped in surprise. "You sneaky bugger! You were planning this?" She was entirely amused though, and loved to see Rumford blush and stammer.  
"I-I w-wanted to be safe!"  
She felt a little sorry, seeing him so anxious, and was soon kissing him again, hoping he realized she truly did not blame him. He gladly hid his own shame within their kisses, glad she was trying her hardest to make him feel at ease again, and he enjoyed the way they had decided to start their morning.  
As his stomach suddenly growled, Belle chuckled.  
“Breakfast?” she asked. “I should probably take a shower first. And put the sheets in the laundry. I’m a little sticky.”  
He smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that…”  
“Don’t worry,” she said as she carefully rolled out of bed. “I’ll go wipe off the worst in the toilet, then head into the shower. Meet me there?”  
He nodded eagerly as she disappeared from the room, sighing deeply, but with a pleased smile on his face as he lay back again for a moment. The day was already looking better than the previous one, and that day had already been incredible. He could not believe his luck.


	15. A New Master

They took even longer in the shower than the day before, washing each other and massaging each other as though they had not just already given into all the lust they felt for one another. They helped each other dry off, and then Rumford insisted on making Belle breakfast, though they both were wearing nothing but bath robes, not having decided on anything to wear for the day yet.  
As Rumford prepared some cheese omelets for the two of them, Belle gazed outside the window, the fresh carpet of snow very alluring to her.  
“Will we go out today?” she asked. “Just for a little while… We could make a snowman… Then when we’re all cold, head back inside and go into the sauna!”  
Rumford liked that idea and smiled. “That sounds like fun… And then after that, some cooking and relaxing?”  
Belle nodded eagerly. It was certainly shaping up to be the best holiday she’d ever had.  
After they ate their omelet, they headed back upstairs, picking out clothes to wear for the day. Belle, however, did not seem too eager to see Rumford dress up just yet, teasing him by squeezing his buttocks and trying to steal kisses from him.  
Rumford was pleasantly surprised by her libido. She certainly was eager to touch and kiss him, and he was more than willing to give into that. He told her to lay on the bed with her legs open and without a moment’s hesitation, she listened to him, biting her lip as she waited for him to continue, and he could sense her excitement. She was truly turned on by him, and it baffled him – but not to the extent that it paralyzed him.  
He went down on her again, trying to bring her to her release as fast as he could – for he had many more plans for her that day. Luckily she wasn’t too difficult to please, and as she cried out his name, he licked her clean one final time.   
“Now go get dressed,” he told her, getting up himself to continue putting on his clothes, and Belle giggled.  
“Yes, master,” she said playfully, winking at him as she walked past him, and he frowned as he considered something. Was she just being playful, or was she actually turned on by dominance? He realized that she had enjoyed it when he had restricted her movement by taking her wrists that very morning, and now again when he had ordered her onto the bed. He could not help but wonder how far she was willing to go – and how far he himself would like to take that part of their sex life.  
Just regular sex was still new to him, but he had to admit to himself that it hadn’t been hard to tell her what to do, and it had pleased him immensely when she had listened so obediently.  
“Belle,” he called out for her, and she walked into the room, still naked, but holding the clothes she had picked for the day.  
He narrowed his eyes as he saw her questioning gaze. She was curious about why he had called her, and he replied. “Come show me the lingerie you have picked for the day.”  
She smiled eagerly at that request and put down her leggings and her dress to walk closer to him and show him the red underpants and bra she had chosen. He approved – though he doubted he would have disapproved of anything. The woman could have made granny panties look good.  
But it had been a test - and she had passed by listening to him so eagerly. It appeared that she liked to please him - and he could use that to their mutual benefit.  
He nodded approvingly and saw her smile, then said: “Put on your panties. I will put on your bra for you.”  
He sensed her excitement while she obliged him, turning around to put on her panties, her bum right in front of him. Her curves teased him as he looked down, narrowing his eyes. He could sense her playfulness and knew she was doing it on purpose. The little minx knew fully well what she was doing.   
As she slipped her panties over her bum – and God did he love how tight they were – she turned around again, waiting for him to put on her bra. It was a strapless one, and as he put it on her and locked it at the back, she cleared her throat. “Make sure my boobies are comfortable,” she reminded him gently, and he was a little confused by that request.  
She noticed and turned towards him, showing him what she meant. “The line of my bra needs to be underneath my breasts, and at the same level on my back too. That’s already done alright. But then you need to take each breast and gently guide it up towards the middle. Even if it only makes a millimeter of difference in what you see, it makes a lot of difference in how comfortable I am during the day.”  
Instead of letting him do it himself, she took his hand in hers, guiding him to grab each boob and re-position it. He did not protest at all, and she smiled happily. “Perfect,” she said, beaming at him with pride.  
“Yes, you are perfect,” he said softly in reply, tracing the curve of her bra with his finger, approving of what he saw. “Now put on the rest of your clothes while I put on mine.”  
“Sure you don’t need help?” she offered happily, and he shook his head.  
Like her, he had a little bit of pride, and as they put on their clothes, they exchanged a few glances, both of them wondering how long it would take them to take those clothes off again. Probably not very long with the way their libido was celebrating this weekend.  
Eager to make the day just as memorable as the day before, they decided to go outside for a little while, sharing a kiss by the swing before they walked down the porch into the snow. Rumford was extra careful where he put down his cane, but luckily it was only cold and not slippery.   
Belle remained close by his side. She wasn't going to let him fall, and they walked to the edge of the lake and back again, noticing a few animal tracks around them, but no footsteps at all.   
"Such a perfectly isolated spot..." Belle smiled as she looked around her, the deserted forest and hills surrounding them making her feel like she was in another country - not on the edge of Storybrooke. "Shall we add a snowman to the scenery?"  
Rumford agreed to that plan and soon they were gathering snow, rolling one large ball after the other until they had a snowman that consisted of three parts. As Rumford looked for stones to use as eyes and a mouth, Belle tried to look for some small branches at the edge of the forest, eager to give their snowman some arms as well.   
As they finished up their snowman, they shared another sweet kiss with one another, and as Belle headed towards the cottage again, Rumford saw his chance to gather some snow and launch it at her. As it hit her full in the back, she gasped, and she turned around with her mouth opened in shock. "Rumford!"  
He chuckled as he gathered another ball of snow from the ground, careful not to fall over as he was standing on one leg, and not soon after that, he hit her in the chest, causing her to gasp once more.  
This time, however, Belle was quick to launch a snowball of her own at him in return, and he chuckled as it hit him in the stomach. A few more snowballs were tossed back and forth, and he was surprised by how softly each of Belle's hits was.   
"You throw like a girl!" he taunted her, but that was something he should not have said.  
The only reason Belle had been holding back, was because Rumford was trying to balance himself on one leg as he bent down and picked up snow constantly, but if he truly did not enjoy her playing so gently, then she would cease that immediately.  
She gathered a bigger snowball than before and tossed it so harshly at him that it hit him in the neck and due to the sudden cold and force of the impact, he lost his balance, yelping as he fell on his back in the snow.   
Belle startled by her own strength and looked at him with wide eyes before she rushed towards him.  
"Rumford!" she squealed, afraid he had hurt his back.   
As she dropped herself on her knees by his side, he looked up at her with a stupid smile.  
"Are you hurt?" she checked.  
He shook his head. "Only my pride," he replied jokingly, licking his lips as he looked at hers, and she knew he was begging her for a kiss to make up.  
She would not resist him that and leaned in to give him the kiss he had asked for, but something cold in her neck forced her to pull back and she squealed again as she felt snow drip down her back.  
"Now we're even," Rumford teased her as he narrowed his eyes, and Belle cried in humiliation.  
"Rumford!" She got up from the ground again as she tried to shake the snow off, but it only ended up deeper underneath her sweater. "You bastard!"  
He laughed, slowly getting up as well, taking his cane to make sure he would not fall again.  
"Ah well... I guess you'll have no other option but to go inside... and undress."  
She narrowed her eyes as she turned towards him, seeing nothing but desire and amusement on his face.  
"Bastard," she muttered once more under her breath, heading back to the cottage, but she was fully aware that he was following her like a lost puppy.   
As she entered through the back door of the kitchen, she kicked the snow off her boots and headed straight into the bathroom. Rumford followed her example and took off his coat as he watched her take off her clothes as well. He only left the room to put away her own coat and his, as well as their scarves and gloves, and when he headed back inside, Belle was already stripping down to her underwear. He hummed approvingly, and Belle shot him another annoyed glance, trying to hide her own amusement at the situation. She truly didn't mind as much, and it seemed like Rumford - as emphatic as he was - could sense that too.   
As she turned her back to him while she started to brush out her hair, he soon moved behind her, taking her by the hips and guiding her bum towards his front. She was so incredibly hot to him, and he was truly unable to resist.   
Though she knew what he was doing - and she could feel his member eagerly poking into her bum, she pretended as though nothing was going on at all, continuing the brushing through her hair without looking at him in the mirror.   
But soon his hands were undoing her bra, and as he pulled it off her, she glanced at him in the mirror. His eyes were already on hers, playful as he brought his hands to her breasts, and she gasped as she felt how cold they were. Her nipples hardened in an instant, and as he started kissing her in her neck, she whimpered gently. He was too good at this – too good for an inexperienced bastard – and she was too eager for him - already growing wet at the thought of having another good fuck.   
He was still wearing his trousers and shirt by the time he pulled down her underpants, and he had to say that he loved the way in which she played along, not minding this at all, eager to have him do this. After a lifetime of thinking no one could ever want him, this was proving to be a massive boost to his ego. Though he had had power, no one had ever obeyed him with pleasure. Most people had been reluctant, or in the best case scenario just polite in doing what he asked - and he certainly had never asked any of them for anything sexual.   
But Belle, she couldn't wait to please, and as he stood behind her, looking at her naked body in front of his fully clothed one in the mirror, he knew that she was awaiting his touch - his command - his ideas.   
But before he let himself get too far, he went into his toiletries and pulled out the box of condoms he had bought. Taking one condom from the box, he offered it to Belle.  
"Will you do the honor?" he asked her, not shyly in any way, but in a tone full of confidence, and he could sense how it turned her on.   
She nodded quickly and took the package in one hand while her other stroked over the bulge in his pants, teasing him as she grabbed hold of him through the fabric.   
He hissed as he breathed in, looking at her through hazy eyes. She certainly was enjoying this, and she was very slow in unbuttoning his trousers and opening his zip. She was even slower as she pulled him out of his underpants, exposing him to the cold air before she knelt down.   
"May I?" she asked as she looked up at him, and he huffed in amusement.  
As though there could be a negative reply to this! He nodded quickly, and looked down at her in lust as she slowly sucked him off. Obviously it felt amazing to him, but the fact that he could sense how eager she was only added to that. She was unexpected, to say the least. When she finally put on his condom, she did not make a move to take off his clothes. Instead, she just waited obediently for his wishes, looking up at him with those big, innocent but simultaneously excited eyes.   
"Get up," he told her in a voice that was a little rougher than he would have liked. But he could not hide how much he wanted her. "Turn around," he ordered her, and as she turned towards the mirror again, he put his hands in her sides, watching her expression as he slid them over her breasts, kneading them until she closed her eyes and gasped. Taking his arousal in his hand, he tried to guide it inside of her, noticing how she carefully held her breath as she tried to position herself in such a way that it would be easier for them. When he finally slid inside of her and heard her moan of approval, he grabbed a firm hold of her hips once more, steadying himself against her as he started rocking his hips against her. He was trying to be gentle, still afraid he would hurt her and turn her off, and so he did not take his eyes off her face as she closed her eyes now. It certainly was turning her on, for she was whimpering again, melting against him each time he thrust in.   
"Is this enjoyable for you?" he asked, and as she nodded in-between her whimpers, he brought one hand up to massage her breasts again. She seemed to enjoy that even more, and hoping he could figure out what she liked, he continued: "Want me to go harder?"  
She opened her eyes, and the lust he saw inside of them almost startled him. "Yes, please," she begged him, bringing both of her hands to the sink in front of them so she could hold onto it.   
He certainly had not expected her to reply so eagerly, and it was almost as though he could feel the lion inside of him roar in excitement. Digging his fingertips deeper into the skin around her hips, he picked up the pace, her moans louder and more desperate each time he thrust in her. He slowed down, however, when her cries of excitement were starting to sound more like cries of pain, and he was terribly conflicted as he hardly sensed anything off - yet it was as though her voice was telling him otherwise.   
"Are you alright?" he asked, stopping completely as he looked at her in the mirror. Her face had expressed pain as well, yet when she looked up at him, she smiled eagerly and he was nearly knocked back by the excitement in her eyes.  
"Yes!" she assured him breathlessly. "Continue!"  
He chuckled before he leaned down a bit to kiss her neck gently. She smiled as she looked at him in the mirror, biting her lip as he put one hand in her neck and the other on her hip as he continued thrusting. She continued looking at him, her gaze full of desire, at least until he had picked up the pace again and she was once more moaning and closing her eyes.   
"Yes, please!" she begged of him, clenching her fingers firmer around the sink as he went as hard as he could without actually falling over, and when she cried out a few moments later he had feared he had gone too far, until he felt how her climax rolled over them both, and he was breathless as he watched her come undone, the muscles in her body relaxing as she hardly seemed to be able to hold onto the sink anymore.   
He wrapped his arms around her waist so she would not lose her balance, still surprised by what had just happened as he slid outside of her.   
"Thank you," she said a little breathlessly, and as he felt a little stab of pain in his own ankle, he guided her with him to the small seat next to the radiator, sitting down on it and pulling her onto his lap - giving them both a chance to breathe.   
He held her close and she snuggled up to him, closing her eyes for a moment as she said: "That was amazing... it's like I can still feel you pounding inside of me now."  
Those words only caused another surge of blood to remind him of his own straining erection, but he knew that he could wait.  
"Well, well, well, miss French," he teased her mysteriously. "I didn't know you had this..."  
"Had what?" she replied sweetly, opening her eyes to look at him, and he grinned.   
"A kink."  
She looked at him in surprise. "Me?"  
He laughed, finding her naive tone endearing.   
"Yes, my love. You seem to like taking orders."  
She chuckled, then shrugged. "I like pleasing you."  
"I'd say it's a little more than just liking it," he teased her, still holding her tightly in his arms. "Your excitement grows exponentially each time I ask you to do something. I thought you were aware of this yourself..."  
She shrugged again, and he could notice she was a little uncomfortable with the topic of discussion.  
"Tell me, Belle," he asked her gently. "What kind of fantasies have you had these past years? Were you the dominant one, or the submissive one?"  
She was blushing, but she did have a small smile on her face as she replied: "It switches... It's not always the same... I like both - and I also thoroughly enjoy the idea of sex where we're both equals - both as needy and willing to give as the other."  
Part of her was honest, but another part of her was dodging the question, and he could sense it.   
As she looked down and saw his erection, she immediately started stroking it, and he could not help but feel like she was trying to distract him from the conversation.   
"Would you mind if I ordered you to do something right now?" he asked, trying to ignore the sensational way in which she was teasing him, looking her in the eyes instead.  
She shook her head. "No. I'd gladly do anything you'd want."  
There was that submissive streak again. He licked his lips before he said: "Then sit down on my lap. Ride me until I come."  
As she turned a bit in his lap and put one leg on either side of him, she guided herself on top of him, slowly sliding over him as she put her hands in his neck.   
"Tell me how," she whispered in his ear before she began to kiss the side of his neck, and he felt a lump in his throat as it aroused him greatly.   
"Show me a few ways," he whispered in reply. "Tell me what you have to offer..."  
She began ever so slowly, squeezing him between her lower muscles as she moved up and down on him, and it was like she was driving him insane this way and he tossed his head back.  
"This is slow," she told him, before she picked up the pace and went faster and faster. "Hard," she continued, holding firmly onto his shoulders so she could keep an even pace. "Or this one..." She slowed down a bit again, rolling her hips sensually over his, the sensation of her angle changing one that caused him to moan.   
"That one!" he gasped, not wanting her to stop, and she continued rocking her hips as sensually as she could, holding his face in her hands as she looked at him with nothing but love.   
He was already close to come, but when he saw her gaze, it was precisely what drove him over the edge, and as he panted and thrust up inside of her, she slowed down, allowing him to spend this moment of bliss with her as he liked. He thrust in a few final times, moaning as he felt his climax pass by again, looking at her with a happy smile.   
She smiled in return before they kissed a few times, but he broke their kisses to clean himself up and throw the condom away.   
Even though she was still naked, she was the one to get them a few glasses of water to drink, and he sighed as he looked at her.   
"You're so incredible," he complimented her, taking the glass of water from her hands. "I will never understand how you could have picked me..."  
"Not a hard choice," she replied with a smile. "You're the only sensible man in Storybrooke. You're pretty incredible yourself, even if you don't believe that."  
Another kiss was shared between them, before Rumford finally stripped down as well.   
"Shower and a sauna?" he suggested, and as she nodded eagerly, he was already wondering how much longer it would take for her to work him into another erection.


	16. Disapproval and Rage

Belle and Rumford truly had the weekend of a lifetime in the cabin. By the time they returned to the town on Monday, they felt horribly out of place, the buzzing of the cars around them and the voices of people in the streets reminding them that they weren't alone on this world, and that they had duties to fulfill.   
Rumford picked up his usual rounds, annoyed by many of his tenants, but no longer as eager to engage in arguments with them as before. He just wanted to get his work over and done with, so he could join Belle in the library before it closed.   
Belle was treated to the company of a class of 9-year-olds, constantly asking her questions as she tried to help them with the assignment the teacher had given them. She would much rather have sat and waited for Rumford - or written a bit in her journal, to put down the wonderful experience of the weekend in words so she'd never have to forget any of it.   
When Rumford entered the library at three o clock and noticed the young children making a lot of noise, he felt his heart sink into his stomach. One look at Belle and he knew that she was feeling the same way about it, and this amused him slightly. He took a book and sat down in a chair, glaring at the children that were too loud, effectively shutting them up with nothing but a gaze until they finally left ten minutes later.   
With the library empty again, he got up from the chair and made his way over to Belle, who met him halfway and hugged him tight.   
"I missed you so much," she whispered, her voice full of need and desperation, and he knew the longing she felt, if only because he felt it too.  
"I know. Me too, my love."   
He broke their hug and gave her a kiss on her forehead.   
"I did my rounds as quickly as possible so I could come here and keep you company."  
"That's so sweet of you!" Belle's heart broke at his words and she showed her gratitude by offering him a warm smile. "It should be quiet in the library now. I don't expect many people to return their books today, but there might still be a few before it's five o clock."  
"That's alright," he replied. "I can read for a bit."  
As the door opened and Doctor Hopper entered, Rumford immediately walked away from Belle and disappeared between the bookshelves.   
"Hey Belle," Doctor Hopper greeted her happily. "I wanted to come by on Friday but noticed you had closed the library? That was unexpected. Not sick, I hope?"  
"Oh no," Belle quickly assured him, blushing as she wasn't sure what to say. "I was fine. Took a little time off for myself."  
"Well, we all need a holiday every now and then!" Archibald continued as he put the books he had borrowed on the circulation desk. "It's a good thing you're finally taking some time off! I understand that working in the library is some sort of dream job for you, but even these walls can get a little bleak, I suppose."  
"It's not as much the walls as it is the fact that I've read so many of the great books already. Sometimes one wants to step out of the library and live a little, I suppose."  
Archibald laughed and nodded in reply, before he went to pick some new books for himself.   
Mister Gold kept hidden in the meanwhile, a little taken aback by how easily and fluently she talked with Doctor Hopper. He was an intelligent man, kind too, and apparently Belle felt at ease around him. He didn't know if he was feeling jealous or glad for it. When the good old doctor left the library again fifteen minutes later, Rumford came out of his hiding place between the shelves, and Belle chuckled as she saw him.  
"I thought for a moment you had disappeared completely," she teased him.  
"I didn't mean to intrude."  
She chuckled. "Don't worry, you wouldn't have. I wasn't sure what to tell Doctor Hopper though. Do we eh... do we go public with this? With us?"  
Rumford hesitated.   
"Not sure," he said honestly. "I am happy that we're a couple, but I don't want to stir gossip. I'm known as a very difficult man, and I don't want to imagine what they'll say about you once they learn we're a couple."  
Belle wasn't sure either. "I know many people are going to be assholes about our age difference..."  
Rumford chuckled. He always liked it when she swore a little.   
She frowned as she continued stubbornly: "Yet at the same time, I feel like just telling them to go fuck themselves!"  
His chuckle turned into a wide grin.   
"Yeah, I think you're right," he said. "What we have is amazing. If they don't understand, then they're twats."  
They smiled as they looked at one another, then leaned in for another kiss, as if that sealed the deal.  
From that moment onward, they no longer hid their relationship from the rest of the world. They walked hand in hand over the street and Rumford often visited Belle in the library before he would join her to her apartment or she would join him to his pink estate.   
People noticed. People talked. But Belle and Rumford couldn't care - not when their lives were finally starting to make sense. Some people even expressed support of their relationship, like Archibald Hopper. Others, like Granny, only looked at them as though they had both lost their minds.   
Belle figured that one person had to hear about them before someone else told her though, and she wrote a long email to Mrs. Potts, telling her how they had grown closer over the months, and how they were now a couple, who were thinking about moving in with one another.   
Mrs. Potts had replied by the following morning, congratulating them and admitting that she had hoped something similar would happen.  
"Clever woman," Rumford had said after Belle had told him about the emails. "I fear we were set up after all."  
Belle chuckled. "Can't say I mind. I don't know how else I would have ever gotten to know you."   
Though gossip spread fast, Belle was glad to learn that her father had not heard anything yet, for she didn't know how to tell him. She feared he would not take it well. By the time she decided to break the news to him, she took Rumford along with her. Without telling her father she was coming, they visited him at home to tell him that she had met Rumford and that they had begun seeing each other and were planning on moving in together. The men were very quiet while Belle babbled nervously, and Rumford often cast down his eyes as he saw Maurice glare at him. One did not need to be an empath to understand Maurice did not like Rumford, but to Rumford, it was one of the most horrible sensations in the world.   
"I don't think your father likes me very much," Rumford had said as they had left his house and were in the car again.   
"He's just shocked," Belle replied, fearing he was a little right, but afraid to agree to it. Her father had not seemed to like Rumford a lot, and she was proven right when he dropped by the library the next day.  
"What were you thinking?" he scolded her, talking to her like she was half her age and unable to think for herself. "That man is a cruel bastard, and he looks like he could be your father! What do you honestly think he sees in you? Of course he likes you! Men our age don't usually get the attention of girls your age! You need to end this for your own sake, before none of the good men will want you anymore!"  
Belle was fuming, feeling violated by the way he came into the library to tell her what to do with her life, but Maurice kept on shouting, so loudly that even people on the street could hear it.   
Archibald Hopper stood listening by the door, shaking his head as he realized Maurice was reluctant to let his daughter be the grown woman she already was, and when mister Gold arrived after his own rounds and wanted to enter with a bouquet of roses in his hands, Archibald took him by his arm to stop him.  
Rumford immediately felt that something was wrong, and as he heard the voice of Belle's father, shouting at his love, he felt both anxious and angry, wondering how the man had the nerve to shout at Belle in such a way.   
What startled him even more though, was the sound of Belle's voice, shouting back at him.   
"Yeah, well, you know what?! I fucking don't care what you think! I don't care that you think he only wants me for my youth, because I know better! I have so much more to offer him than my body, and he knows this too! He has always treated me like a complete package - like an actual person - while you still only look at me as a girl that only gets attention and friends because of her body instead of who I actually am! He is fucking intelligent, and I doubt explaining it to you will change your mind, because you're the complete opposite! If you want to be a jerk about my relationship with Rumford, then be my guest. Be the biggest fucking jerk you can imagine to be, and leave us the fuck alone. I was hoping to get your blessing, but if you only want me to break up with him, then fuck off. I'm breaking up with you. You can try to change my mind or leave. It won't fucking work. You might as well go!"   
Rumford's heart was pounding in his throat as he heard how she put her father for such an ultimatum.   
It was quiet for a few moments, and both Rumford and Archie jumped back when the door opened and Maurice rushed past them, not even looking at them as he headed back to his place as fast as he could - his expression unclear as his face was hidden underneath the cap he wore, though Rumford had sensed the repressed anger in him.   
Archibald gulped as he turned to Rumford and said: "I'll return my books at another time. I suppose you want to go in?"  
He nodded, nervously stepping inside to find Belle missing from her usual spot behind the circulation desk. As he stepped in further, his cane tapping on the floor, he eventually found her in the coffee room, where she was still shaking from anger and pale from rage.   
As she saw him standing there, pale as well, leaning heavily on his cane and clutching the roses to his chest, she suddenly started crying - the adrenaline that had before made her so feisty now turning her into an emotional wreck.  
"Those are for our one-month anniversary, aren't they?" she cried, rushing towards him to hug him, and he was just in time to open his arms to her.   
He embraced her tightly as she cried onto his vest, feeling how distressed she felt, and he wasn't sure what to say or do. It certainly ruined his plans of having a romantic evening with her, but that wasn't the biggest reason for worry. Belle had possibly just lost her father, and he knew this was not going to be easy on her. He could only hope that Maurice French would come to his senses soon. He would hate to have to see this wound within Belle fester as time went by.


	17. Secret Plans of Christmas

Rumford had hoped that Maurice would seek out his daughter again in the days that followed, but no such thing happened. Belle felt horrible for what had happened, but lacked the courage to approach her father again. She was unwilling to give up Rumford for anything in the world. Perhaps she would never be able to see eye to eye with her father again, but she was not going to leave Rumford – about that, she had made up her mind.  
She was sad, but still as loving as ever, often spending the evenings kissing him in bed until they would start some slow but pleasant comfort sex. It seemed to relieve her a little bit, though Rumford could still sense her sadness. That same misery hung over her like a cloud, day in day out, and he didn't know if he could do anything to make it better for her.   
With the holiday season approaching, Belle kept eerily quiet about what they would do for Christmas. She also did not open up about what she used to do before they had met, but Rumford could remember her telling him that she made roast for herself and her father with every Christmas. He wondered if she was going to make roast for him, or if she was going to spend Christmas day as a sobbing mess.   
Unable to talk to Belle about this, Rumford found himself knocking on Doctor Hopper's office door one afternoon, and as Doctor Hopper opened his door, he seemed surprised.  
"Mister Gold. I thought my rent wasn't due for another week or two?"  
He shook his head.   
"No... No, it's something else... I was hoping to talk to you."  
Doctor Hopper stepped aside as he opened the door a little wider, and Gold thanked him as he walked in, taking a seat as the doctor offered it.   
"Are you alright?" he asked carefully, and Rumford quickly nodded.  
"I'm fine. Just a little worried about Belle and her father. Since the day they fell out at the library - when you were there as well - they have not made it up. And with the holidays approaching, Belle is turning into an emotional wreck. She is sad all day long, almost completely depressed about what happened, and I want to make her feel better, but doubt it's in my ability to do so."  
Doctor Hopper nodded, understanding what he meant.   
"As her partner, you wish to help her. But you do understand that this isn't something that can be forgotten with chocolates and a bouquet of flowers?"  
Rumford nodded. "I know."  
"Best thing to do, is to give her time.”  
The two men were quiet for a few moments, and Rumford could not stop his thinking.  
“Perhaps… perhaps I could invite the man over for Christmas?” he suggested softly, and Archibald looked up in surprise.  
“After what he said?”  
Rumford shrugged. “All that matters is Belle’s happiness. My ego has been bruised and battered many times… I think I can easily get over his insults…”  
Archibald was a little baffled, but Rumford continued.  
“I’ve spent most of my Christmases on my own,” Rumford admitted. “It’s a horrible feeling. And now that I’m spending it with Belle, I just want her to be happy. How can she be happy when she is so distraught about what happened between her and her father? If I go to Maurice, then neither Belle nor he need to get over their ridiculous sense of pride. I can be the middleman.”  
Archibald was impressed. “That is very thoughtful of you. Christmas is indeed one of the worst times of the year to be alone.”  
Rumford narrowed his eyes as he picked up on an emotion – not within himself, but within the doctor. Though he did not show it on his face, there was a sadness within the doctor that Rumford could not immediately explain, unless…  
“Doctor,” he asked carefully. “Do you have plans for Christmas?”  
“Eve or day?” the doctor replied quickly, but as he saw Rumford’s patient expression, he realized he wasn’t fooling anyone. “No, not really. I’ve had a falling out with my own parents a very long time ago. And since I’m single and trying to keep a healthy distance between myself and my patients… Well let’s just say I don’t have many friends in Storybrooke. Just acquaintances.”  
Rumford could sense that, and it saddened him a bit. Before he had met Belle, he had never felt like making meaningful connections with anyone, but now that she was in his life, he just wanted to do the right thing – like she had done the right thing by becoming a part of his life.  
“You should spend Christmas with us. With me and Belle. And hopefully her father.”  
“As a mediator of sorts?” Archie joked, and Rumford chuckled, actually amused.   
“Let’s hope that won’t be necessary! And if it makes you feel any better, then I won’t become a patient of yours – so we can keep this relationship casual instead of professional. Not that I’m trying to get a free consult here. Tell me what you ask for this.”  
Archibald chuckled. “Let’s keep it casual then, indeed. Though if you would feel obliged to repay me, I do really like Italian wines.” The doctor winked. “Something to consider when preparing for Christmas, perhaps?”  
Mister Gold got up and chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll remember that when I go shopping. I’ll let you know on a time and date.”

It took a great deal of courage for Rumford to go to Belle’s old home, and he actually feared mister French would not open the door.   
When he did however, Rumford had not expected the man in the door frame to look so terribly depressed. It was clear that he had not shaved in many days, and his hair was unkempt as he looked at Rumford through tired eyes.  
For a moment Rumford feared the man would get angry with him for even stopping by, especially when he himself looked so fine and the man looked like a train-wreck, but Belle’s father said nothing at all, staring blankly at Rumford.   
“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Mister French,” Rumford started carefully. “May I come in for a moment?”  
As Maurice stepped aside, he only allowed Rumford inside the hallway, the place rather dark as all the curtains appeared closed, even if it was the middle of the day.   
“You must be wondering why I’m here,” Rumford started a little anxiously, but he couldn’t say much more as Maurice French interrupted him.  
“To gloat?”  
“What?” Rumford felt how those words tugged at his heartstrings. “No, not at all! I eh… I came because I know Belle has been feeling miserable… and I know you’re miserable too…”  
For a moment Maurice looked offended, but Rumford was quick to continue: “I mean, you’re not exactly trying to keep it a secret, are you? You look miserable, and to be honest, I’m glad you’re feeling just as depressed about this as Belle is. That means there’s still hope that you two can make it up.”  
Maurice had narrowed his eyes as he was still looking at Gold, not even blinking as he heard the man out.   
“So what do you want me to do?” Maurice asked roughly. “Go back to the library and apologize?”  
Mister Gold shrugged. “That might work… But only if you really don’t mean the words anymore that you said back then. But I eh… I was thinking something different.”  
“What then?”  
There was a bit of a hostile tone in Maurice’s voice, but as Rumford focused on his emotions, he realized that the man was just terribly sad. He had nothing to fear, and he just needed to pluck his courage together now.  
“Come spend Christmas with us?” he blurted out. “I’m sure it would mean the world to Belle if you would come. I know you don’t like me and I can understand your reasons why. I haven’t always been a particularly kind man, and I’m certainly not deserving of a beauty like your daughter… But I like to believe that I’m good to her, and that we click well on many levels. I feel like she has changed me for the better… And I hope you will take the chance to get to know me better… The new me… The better me.”  
Though he was still picking up on a lot of resentment on Maurice’s side, the man eventually dropped his suspicion and nodded.  
“Sounds reasonable,” he said. “Belle and I are quite emotional people. When it comes to intelligence, we’re on different levels, I know that. But emotionally, we both are prone to lose our temper – though usually only against one another. Must be a father-daughter thing.”  
Rumford smiled carefully, afraid to appear rude if he laughed.   
“So eh… You’ll come over for Christmas?”  
“It would be rude not to,” Maurice said with a shrug. “Yeah… I’ll be there.”  
“Great!” Rumford said in a relieved tone. “May I tell Belle, or would you rather tell her yourself?”  
Maurice was quiet for a few moments, but eventually took his cell phone from his pocket and said: “I’ll give her a call, if you don’t mind.”  
“Of course not!” Rumford quickly said, glad the man was taking some responsibility again.  
“I don’t know it’s a good idea to see her face-to-face just yet…” Maurice muttered, trying to figure out if this was the right thing to do. “And I hope she picks up the phone… If not, then… then perhaps it’s better if I don’t come this Christmas.”  
Rumford could sense how that thought was nearly destroying the man inside, and in an instinct, he suddenly touched Maurice’s shoulder, putting a firm hand on the man’s upper arm.   
“Do not doubt so much. She will pick up the phone, I’m sure of it. She misses you.”  
Maurice gulped as he looked into Rumford’s eyes, seeing a completely different man than the bastard and bully he had always believed him to be, and he nodded breathlessly.   
“I best be off,” Rumford said as he stepped back a little awkwardly, feeling rather self-conscious all of a sudden. “Hopefully until Christmas then?”  
Maurice nodded warily. “Yeah. Hopefully.”


	18. Why it Worked

When Rumford got home a little later, Belle was already waiting for him in front of the door of his pink estate, running up to him to give him a big hug, and as he sensed how relieved Belle was, he knew that she had picked up the phone when her father had rang.  
“Rumford!” she squealed in gratitude. “You invited father for Christmas?! He actually rang and apologized to me! He said that he was mistaken about you!”  
She had tears of happiness in her eyes, and Rumford felt relief flush over him as well. It was nice that his Belle was back to her usual self. The sorrow of the past weeks was starting to fall from her shoulders again, and she rewarded him with the best make-up sex he could have imagined – in his own bedroom this time.   
With Christmas approaching soon, Rumford invited one other person to the party: his assistant mister Dove. He did not seem particularly happy or annoyed to be invited, though Rumford still felt like it had been the right thing to do. Mister Dove was a very closed man – almost as though he had no emotions at all – and perhaps that explained why Rumford had picked him as his assistant back in the day.  
Belle was eager to have so many guests over – not complaining that she was by far the youngest of the bunch or the only woman there. She could not wait to make them all roast and to buy all of them some presents, even if she did not know mister Dove at all.   
“I’m surprised you invited so many people,” Belle said as they were preparing dessert together on the day before Christmas. “I thought it would just be the two of us, perhaps my dad, but now also Archie and mister Dove… That’s quite a party already. I thought you didn’t like crowds?”  
Rumford shrugged as he was stirring a bowl of cream. “I really don’t… But… it felt like the right thing to do. I know I’ve been miserable many Christmases in my life. I didn’t want them to feel the same.”  
“That’s very kind of you,” Belle said gently while she was cooking the pudding on the fire.   
“Took me a long while,” he replied honestly. “To grow gentler… One would think being an empath would make me kinder – but I’ve been so overwhelmed for most of my life, so unloved and underappreciated, that I felt like people didn’t deserve kindness.”  
“What changed?” Belle asked curiously, turning the fire down as the pudding had started to boil.   
“I met you,” he said gently, and he spotted Belle’s loving gaze, though that did not stop him in his explanation. “You taught me that there’s happiness for all out there – if people dare to believe in it. I might not be able to give them that happiness – but at best I might be able to give them some hope.”  
Belle was glad to hear it and started distributing the pudding in five small bowls, before she put a secret Christmas cookie in each of them.   
“Put the cream in the fridge, sweetheart,” she said as she noticed he had been stirring for ages. “You’re going to get a sore arm unless you stop.”  
Rumford chuckled as he listened to her, and as he had put the cream away, he went to stand behind her as she was washing her hands and wrapped his arms around her waist.   
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear, and Belle bit her lip, glad to hear it.  
“Since we won’t have time for much romantic gestures tomorrow,” she started slowly, not finishing her sentence as she raised an eyebrow and invitingly looked at Rumford.   
He chuckled as he sensed her naughty mind working its hardest.   
“What did you have in mind, my princess?” he purred in her ear, and she grinned.   
“Something divine…” she replied, and as she turned around, she took his hand and pulled him along with her to their bedroom.   
He was given a front row seat to her changing her casual clothes for a pair of sexy lingerie he had not seen before. He assumed it was an early Christmas present and was grateful for it. The color was a creamy white – a color she didn’t usually wear – and the edges of her bra, underwear and stockings actually had white fur on them.  
She playfully crawled on the bed besides him, and he approvingly let his hand roam the soft satin fabric and the even softer fur.   
“I don’t think I want you to take it off now,” he teased her as he spoiled his fingers against the fabrics.  
“Why not?” she asked sweetly.  
“It’s too damn soft, that’s why,” he muttered, winking at her.  
She giggled and lay by his side, her arms above her head as she made herself comfortable besides him. “You know,” she said teasingly. “I’ve also bought a surprise for you. It’s in the closet…”  
Rumford raised an eyebrow, intrigued by those words. He wondered what it was and rolled off the bed, limping towards the closet and opening it curiously.   
As he saw something hang inside, he pulled it out.   
It was a large, one-piece pajama of sorts, brown and soft and with a hoodie on it.   
“What’s this?” he wondered, feeling a little nervous as he did not think it looked particularly sexy.  
“Oh! That’s another gift! That’s for sleeping! Our Christmas onesies! There’s also one for me in the closet!”  
As Rumford went inside the closet again, he found another one, this one white, and as he put the two onesies next to each other, Belle explained: “Mine has a bunny hoodie and yours is a bear!”  
Honestly, he was a little anxious about this. “Is this another kink of yours?” he wondered.  
Belle laughed. “Good heavens, no! No, this is just cute and warm and ideal for cuddling up next to one another when it’s cold! I have wanted one forever, and now I could no longer resist and gave in. But I had to get one for you too… Only seemed fair.”  
Rumford laughed as he hung the two onesies back into the closet, noticing some black boxers – or rather trunks – hanging a little further.   
“Oh…” he said in an appreciating tone as he took the underwear out of the wardrobe. “Soft.”  
“Satin,” Belle said hopefully. “It’s very soft. And you’re forgetting something.”  
Looking back into the closet, he noticed the matching shirt that hung besides it. It had short sleeves and didn’t look particularly different from a regular T-shirt, besides the fact that it was as soft as could be.  
“Oh… You’ve been spoiling me,” he said appreciatively. “Well, can’t wait to try it on. Do you want a show?”  
Belle giggled as she bit her lip and nodded, and she looked appreciatively how Rumford undressed, turned around before he slid off his underpants and slipped into the new trunks. They were quite tight, but Belle honestly did not mind the good view of his bum that that provided. As he put on the shirt as well, he turned around and Belle couldn’t wait to let her hands roam that body.  
“Handsome,” she complimented him, and she did not take back that compliment as he limped back towards the bed, crawling next to her to ask for a kiss.   
“Candles?” Belle suggested after their brief kiss, and Rumford nodded.   
They both had a liking for candles in the bedroom, even if they both also had an equally large fear for fire hazards, and so the candles were far from the bed – far from where the action took place – placed on racks against the wall and on top of the boudoir. Belle lit them all with care as she talked to him: “So what shall the story be? I’m the girl from the jungle and you’re the explorer that found me?”  
Rumford laughed. “We did the Tarzan-storyline a few days ago.”  
“Yeah but you were the woobie-Tarzan then,” Belle said with a pout, causing him to grin.   
“The clothes don’t really lend itself for a jungle-storyline,” he said. “We’re much too fancy for that.”  
“What if you’re the king and I’m the maiden sent to please you at night?”  
Rumford hummed appreciatively. “I like that one.”  
“Or!” Belle continued, scenario after scenario flooding into her brain as she tried to come up with other fun things. “You’re the rich CEO of some underwear firm, and I have just designed this new set, and I have come to defend it in person, trying to convince you to make it a line.”  
“That could work too,” Rumford said, eager to behold her as she lit the last candle in the room. He continued: “You came to me in my office earlier during the day to ask for a chance to show me the new lingerie. I accepted and later on mailed you clear instructions – the address of my estate – and I gave my house maid the instructions to show you a guest room where you could undress and shower. She also told you the room in which you could find me, but you did not know it would be in the bedroom.”  
“Not that I’m going to be prude about it since I’ve had a crush on my CEO for the longest time,” she said eagerly, heading towards the door. “Alright. I’ll be with you in a while.”  
As she closed the door behind her, he looked around, trying to figure out a good spot to greet her from when she would finally enter. He eventually made his way to the door itself, waiting for her to knock, but it took a while longer than he had expected. Did he hear the stairs creak? What had she gone downstairs for?  
He didn’t hear her come up though, and waited patiently for her return. When she knocked on the door, he nearly jumped, and instead of saying anything, he opened the door herself, leaning against the doorframe as he looked at her. She was holding two empty glasses and a bottle of champagne.  
“Miss French, do you always drink on the job?” he asked teasingly, and Belle seemed terribly amused by this.  
“Oh, no, mister Gold – only when we have something to celebrate,” she replied innocently, and he was intrigued.  
“I can’t recall it being either of our birthdays.”  
“Not a birthday, mister Gold,” she assured him. “I’m celebrating the launch of a new line of lingerie.” She teasingly turned around for him, and he finally opened the door wide enough to let her in.  
“No launch has been approved of yet,” he reminded her sternly. “Not before I’ve had a thorough investigation of the product.”   
As Belle walked towards the bed, she put down the bottle and glasses on their nightstand, turning back towards him before she sat down, patting the space on the bed next to her.  
“I must say I had not thought you would receive me in your bedroom, mister Gold. Do you find that a productive location to do your work?”  
As he sat beside her, he brushed some hair away that hung over her shoulder before he gently kissed her neck, then whispered in her ear: “Very...”  
“So you have many presentations of lingerie in here?” she asked, wondering what he would make up this time.  
“None,” he replied smoothly. “Though I’ve waited for this one a very long time… Ever since I saw you, I was wondering when you were to approach me with your design. I feared you would not have one – but now that you do…”  
“Are you saying you’ve had your eye on me, mister Gold?” she asked playfully, and he grinned in lust.   
“Oh yes, miss French…” He continued kissing her neck, and Belle hummed in approval.  
“Glad to hear I wasn’t the only one,” she said teasingly, and at this he raised an eyebrow.  
“Oh?”  
“I wondered about you, mister Gold… What women were your type… How you spent your evenings and nights… If you’d ever fall for a lass like me...”  
Those words turned him on even more, and as he took Belle’s wrists, he pinned her down to the bed, crawling on top of her with a hungry look in his eyes.   
“Oh, I’ve fallen alright,” he muttered darkly, before he pressed his lips on hers, kissing her passionately.   
She enjoyed every minute of their little roleplay, but turned her head away from him as she said: “Why, mister Gold… You’re not even touching or looking at the design… I’ve worked very hard on that.”  
He had no choice but to stop his kisses and he let go of her wrists as he let his fingers touch her bra, teasing her nipple through the fabric as he did so.   
“Very soft, miss French. Are you a soft kind of girl then?”  
“Would you have preferred me to wear leather for you?”  
He chuckled. “That might have intimidated me. No, Miss French, this is fine.”   
He let his hands go down her waist, stopping at the hem of her underpants.   
“Lovely underpants, miss French. Such a shame I am about to take them off.”  
“In fact!” she interrupted him a little fiercely. “Perhaps you should explore them a bit further to see if that is completely necessary.”  
As he put his hand further down between her legs, his eyes suddenly widened. Where his fingers had touched the soft satin before, he now found himself to be in straight contact with her wet skin.   
“Miss French!” he gasped in a surprised tone. “Are you suggesting we sell underwear with holes in them?”  
Belle laughed, very amused by his exasperation.   
“Oh no, mister Gold. Not necessarily. But I thought it would be nicer for you if there was no need to take off my underpants… So you could experience the thrill of my creation.”  
Rumford grinned. He had not noticed the hole in her underpants before, but he had to say that it had been a wonderful touch to the surprise. As his fingers roamed the area that was free to explore, he saw how much she enjoyed it, and he leaned down into her ears to confess: “Well played…”  
As her hand looked for his pants, she felt how he was erect for her, and instead of pulling off his pants, she brought him out through the hole in his trunks, gently jerking him off while he fingered her.   
“My dear Miss French,” he interrupted her as he grabbed hold of her hand and stopped her. “If you bring me to my release like this, I won’t have the chance to explore the sensation of your inner walls around me – and I must assure you that I have no intention of letting that moment slide by.”  
She opened her legs a little wider for him, inviting him in.   
“Then by all means, pop on a condom and slide in, mister Gold.”   
It was a good thing she mentioned that. Sometimes during their roleplays he had a tendency to forget the actual world – or the fact he could very well leave her pregnant if he did not protect himself.   
The good thing about having intercourse this way, was that the roleplay was not just an exercise in creativity, but also one in emotions – and no two times were ever the same. He had never imaged sex to be so much fun and so rewarding.   
Belle, on her turn, was glad that her own creativity and imagination was matched by his own. Her previous partners had been unable to imagine themselves in anyone else’s shoes, even hers. Rumford, on the other hand, was able to imagine himself in any position she described, and was convincing enough an actor to make her believe it too. It was a way to explore the world and other people without actually leaving their bedroom – and it was leaving them both so incredibly satisfied with their sex life that they could not imagine ever separating or growing bored of one another.  
As they lay completely spent in each other’s arms half an hour later, Rumford was stroking the soft fur along the edge of her underwear.   
“Won’t the fur get ugly now if you wash it?” he wondered, feeling a little sad that it would lose its softness then.   
“Actually,” Belle said softly. “The fur is clipped on. I can get it off and wash the satin, and just have a brush through the fur.”  
He chuckled. “That’s genius. I think we should make a line out of that underwear, Miss French. It’s a brilliant design.”   
“Glad you agree with me, mister Gold!”  
They shared an amused kiss with one another before Belle convinced him that they should sleep in their onesies, and he had to admit that he had never felt as young as he fell asleep that night, his little bunny Belle resting comfortably in his arms.

Christmas was a massive success the following day. Maurice and Belle made up. Archibald Hopper was delighted to be in good company for once and mister Dove was just incredibly pleased with the quality of the cooking. The gifts they had bought for one another were perhaps a little awkward, but thoughtful at the same time.   
Maurice had brought along small pots with bonsai trees for Archibald and mister Dove, something they both appreciated, as well as a fancy watch for Rumford and a new smartphone for Belle. Belle had bought books for everyone – as well as chocolates and socks. Archibald gave everyone an expensive bottle of wine and boxes of bonbons and mister Dove had bought all the men a toolbox – and for Belle a sewing kit. Strange as the gifts were, they were appreciated none the less.   
Rumford spoiled Belle with a new necklace, some perfume and a beautiful box with all of Shakespeare’s works in it – each of them bound separately. For her father as well as for Doctor Hopper, he had ordered beautiful personalized golden plaques with their names and titles on it that they could put on their desks at work. For the doctor he also had a beautifully leather-bound novel with Plato’s texts in it and for Maurice he had bought a tie with a thorn-design on it – something he thought was fitting since the man grew roses at home.  
Mister Dove, however, only received a key from mister Gold, and he was a little surprised by this.  
“You may take this key to the local garage on Thursday. You’ll find a new pick-up truck for you there. Obviously you need to turn in your old one, but I’m sure you’ll like the new one. It’s black and it’s got proper air-conditioning, very comfortable seats and the best audio system you could wish for. And it’s all yours – though I obviously still expect you to run errands and work for me.”  
Mister Dove grinned, very pleased with that gift.   
They had their desserts after the gift-exchange and while Belle cleaned up in the kitchen, the men pulled out a game of cards and started to play, leaving Belle smiling as she beheld the four of them, and mostly Rumford, completely at ease around these other people, no longer jumpy when he accidentally brushed another one’s hand or picked up on emotions different than his own.   
He was still an empath, but at some time during their relationship, he had learned to handle it. It no longer crippled him to the point that his only meaningful relationship was the one with his hairdresser.  
His entire life he had spent in relative isolation, but now he was finally learning that company wasn’t always a bad thing. He had gathered these visitors in his house with his own invitations, and when they decided to leave around midnight, he was tired, but also very content.   
Doctor Hopper and mister Dove thanked Belle and Rumford for the invite and gifts and left together, both having had a little too much alcohol to drive home, and so they walked instead. As Maurice hugged Belle, glad to have his daughter back, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and wished him a goodnight, and while Belle headed back to the kitchen, the owner of the flower shop stopped by Rumford before he left, offering his hand to the man.   
“Can’t begin to say how much I appreciate your invitation. I had a great time.”  
“Yes,” he said quickly. “Me too! It was nice that you came. And thanks again for the watch!”  
Maurice grinned at those words, leaning a little closer as he said: “Keep a good eye on the time. Around this time next year, if you feel up to it, you should come have a chat with me.”  
Rumford was confused and it showed on his face, but Maurice merely grinned as he added: “Well… I’m a traditional man, mister Gold. If you plan to marry my daughter, you’d better come and ask me for permission in advance.”  
Rumford gulped, not having expected the man to say such a thing, and Maurice laughed as he assured him: “Though I doubt I would give you any trouble about it, if you keep on caring for her like you do now. Just saying!”  
He tipped his hat and winked before he left the hallway, and as Rumford closed the door behind him, he felt a little dazed.  
“What was that about?” Belle asked curiously as he entered the living room again, and she was just clearing out the last glasses and bottles of wine.   
Rumford, however, didn’t reply straightaway. A mysterious smile came to his lips and he promised: “You’ll find out next year. I’m sure of it.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and the lovely comments! *big kiss* Hope you enjoyed it! All feedback is still appreciated! ^^


	19. ARTWORK

Made this artwork because I realized there was no artwork for The Lonely Empath yet, and for my other stories there usually exists *some* artwork by the time it's finished!

I would also like to ask my faithful readers to consider nominating The Lonely Empath for [an Espenson Award](http://theespensonawards.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Only fellow Tumblr-folks can participate and nominate.  
I certainly do not want to urge you to create a Tumblr just for voting or anything, but if you do happen to have a Tumblr and you are a fan of my work, keep me in your minds for nominations! :-)

Nominating takes place between January 17 and 23.   
If I make it through the nominations, the actual voting starts on January 31st.

Since there are [a shitton of categories](http://theespensonawards.tumblr.com/categories) to choose from, and it is hella hard to put all my stories in categories   
(that would not overlap, cause I could pretty much put everything in the AU category...),   
I would like to ask you to consider this story for the " **Fluff - Comfort** " category. :-) 

Many thanks in advance!


End file.
